The Tale of Crossfire and the Hustler
by TheoreticallyEva
Summary: Zootopia AU. Judy and Nick become roommates and co-workers at a diner. Unbeknownst to each other, they both lead secret lives outside the law—one as a vigilante and the other as a criminal with an agenda. What follows is a tangled web of secret identities with not-so-secret archenemies infused with VERY secret attractions. Complications ensue.
1. We Don't Disappear

**Chapter 1—We Don't Disappear**

 **A/N: This is probably the first of several multi-chapter Zootopia fan fictions that I plan to write eventually, but the only one in this alternate universe. I'm enjoying the crap out of it, though.**

 **Special thanks to my awesome friends Camoss (a.k.a. Sir Dumbness Finder) and The StarsShadow15 for encouraging me and reviewing my work to make sure that I wouldn't embarrass myself before posting it. You should definitely check out their fan fictions "A Ray of Hope" and "The Faded Line" respectively. I also highly recommend them as friend material, so you should probably talk to them, too.**

 **Every chapter has certain lyrics from a song associated with it. In the last chapter, I'll make a list of the story's "soundtrack." If you'd like to know what specific lyrics I use for each chapter, I invite you to check out my account at AO3, where they don't have rules that make no sense whatsoever.**

 **Updates will occur every weekend.**

 **Enjoy. :)**

 **Disclaimer: Zootopia isn't mine. Don't remind me. *sigh***

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 4:42 a.m._

* * *

"Nick!" Finnick's voice yelled into Nick's earpiece. "Time's up! Get out o' there!"

Sure enough, Nick heard the metallic sound of a canister hitting the floor, followed by the click of a door slamming shut. He straightened from where he was bent over the computer on the far wall and cursed. After snatching the USB drive from its port, he glanced quickly around the City Hall record room in which he stood, breathing heavily into his gas mask. _Is there anything I'm forgetting?_

When his eyes fell on the blank white wall several feet to his right, he smirked.

Of course.

He whipped out a pen from his utility belt and hurriedly scribbled on the blank surface. _"Courtesy of the Hustler_ , _"_ it read, along with a stick drawing of a fox face.

Nodding approvingly at his handiwork, he prayed that it wouldn't be too marred by the fire that would soon erupt.

" _Nick!_ " It was Finnick's voice again, sounding even more urgent.

Near Nick's feet, a small yellow light on the canister was rapidly blinking. Just a few seconds left. He stepped smoothly over it, flicking it playfully with his bushy tail while shoving his paws into the pockets of his ebony-colored slacks, his equally black button-up shirt flapping breezily with the movement. "Finnick, if I didn't know better, I'd say you cared about me," he said casually.

"I care about the flash drive in your filthy pocket, Wilde," the smaller foxed growled into Nick's earpiece. "If you don't have it, stay there and burn. I won't lose any sleep over it."

With a melodramatic sigh, Nick opened the door and slipped out of it, closing it just in time to hear and feel the canister's modest explosion inside. The scent of burning paper, melting plastics, and hot metal filled his nostrils, even through his gas mask. "And here I thought we really had something special, Finnick."

His friend only grunted.

Nick nodded in greeting at the darkly clad weasel leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. Despite the gas mask covering the weasel's ugly face, Nick somehow knew that he was sneering. "What happened, Duke?" he asked. "Thought I still had another five minutes."

"Turns out one o' the guards managed to call the cops before the gas knocked 'im out," Duke explained nasally in his typical annoyed tone. "Heard 'em start poundin' the lobby doors, but Finnick's security deadlock is holdin' on for now. Only a matter o' time before they have a rhino charge through 'em."

Nick hummed. "Ah, well, thank you," he said as they took off running down the hall and toward the window at the far end. "You do remember that I carry my own explosives, though, right?"

"Wanted to make sure ya felt rushed," Duke replied matter-of-factly.

As they approached the window, Nick slipped a broken sparkplug from one of the pockets on his belt and chucked it at the glass, which shattered instantly and with a satisfying cleanliness that brought a smile to his face. He and Duke leapt out of it at the same moment, landing safely on the black van just a few feet below and then dropping themselves inside by way of the open sun roof. Finnick glowered at them from where he sat gripping the steering wheel and slammed his foot on the gas pedal the moment they plopped down in the three-mammal seat beside him. Nick had to admire the way his friend urged the vehicle to a high speed so rapidly without making the tires screech. It was handy, since the police wouldn't be able to find out anything about the tires from the marks that would have been left on the ground. Not that it would've been a big lead, but Nick preferred to err on the side of caution.

He and Duke removed their gas masks and tossed them into the open area in the back. Duke immediately took to watching the city pass them by outside the window, his face set in its default glaring expression. Nick, on the other hand, leaned back and stretched against his part of the seat—which happened to be the middle, situated between Duke and Finnick—with a wide yawn.

"Well, that one's done," he drawled.

"Where's the flash drive, Wilde?" Finnick demanded tersely.

Sighing, Nick bent himself at an awkward angle in order to rummage around in his pocket without elbowing the smaller fox. Soon, he produced the USB that he had taken from the records room. "It's all here, buddy. Justice is served," he said, not bothering to hide his self-congratulatory grin.

Finnick glanced briefly at the USB to confirm its existence but otherwise kept his eyes on the road. "Good," he said gruffly. "Keep it on ya for now."

"Will do," Nick said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes and make a sarcastic remark at the obvious advice.

A moment of companionable silence passed among the three predators before Duke spoke. "That was too close. We gotta be more careful. We're gaining a reputation now, which means they'll be watchin' for us everywhere."

"Let them watch," Nick replied. "Makes it easier to get our message across if they're paying close attention."

"I ain't goin' to _jail_ for this, Wilde," Duke said snidely. "My life ain't that bad yet."

This was a conversation Nick didn't particularly feel like having, so he merely shrugged and let it drop.

The only sound for the rest of the trip was that of the van tearing through the air on its way to an alley between a bank and a bakery located in Sahara Square. It was a perfect fit for the van—almost a tight one—and it certainly provided welcome concealment from the few searching eyes that were open and awake at this time of day. Or night? Nick was never sure what to call it. It was still dark outside, but the light of dawn was starting to creep its way into the sky.

 _Wait, sunlight?_

Eyes widening, Nick scrambled out of the van after Duke, retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, and glanced at the time. He muttered a curse when he saw that it read 5:15 a.m.

"I've got to get going," he stated, handing the USB to Finnick, who scowled but didn't appear surprised. "I'll be late for work."

"Duke and I will start lookin' it over," Finnick said. "Come over after you're done so we can discuss it."

Nick acknowledged his friend's words with a wave of his paw before scurrying away. His apartment wasn't very far away—just a few blocks, really—but he hadn't expected the hustle to take as long as it did, and he knew he'd be lucky to get to work any sooner than five minutes _after_ the start of his shift.

By the time he had burst into his apartment, thrown on his uniform, rushed back out, and sprinted to the two-star restaurant called Pike's Place, it was 5:41 a.m.—eleven minutes after he was supposed to have clocked in.

There weren't a lot of mammals sitting at the tables yet, but there were enough to suggest that things would get busy quickly. Most of them were probably just getting off night shifts, or were about to begin early-morning ones, or they might have just been nocturnal mammals catching a nice meal before going to sleep. Hoping that it didn't make him look _too_ unprofessional, Nick jogged lightly around the rim of the dining area—a posh, maroon-themed room dotted with ionic columns, generously cushioned chairs, and elaborately woven rugs—to reach the kitchen in the far back. He pushed through the doors as quietly as possible in an effort to draw minimal attention to himself and punched his employee code into the time clock just inside the entrance. The moment he turned to the apron rack, however, he was faced with a glowering zebra in a white chef's jacket and toque, arms crossed over his chest.

"You're late," the zebra said flatly. " _Again_."

"I know, I know," Nick admitted, ears folding back. "Sorry, Harold. My alarm didn't go off when it was supposed to—"

"There's always a reason with you, Wilde," Harold interrupted. "One day, you're going to run out of them." He gestured irritably at Nick's form. "In addition to inconveniencing your co-workers with your tardiness, your uniform clearly hasn't been washed recently, and your fur is unkempt. You're practically a walking health code violation."

Nick grimaced. "Well, I'm here now, and I'll do better—"

"Don't bother," Harold waved a hoof, and Nick's gut twisted. "I know you're a fox, but I still expect better from my employees. You don't seem interested in meeting Pike's Place's standards, so I've decided to find someone else who is."

Of course. Squeezing his eyes shut and hanging his head, Nick sighed. "All right, I get it." Harold said nothing more, so Nick just jabbed his employee code into the time clock again to signal the end of his short-lived shift. "I'll see myself out, then."

Without glancing back, Nick exited the kitchen and trudged through the dining area. None of the patrons studying the menus at their tables even seemed to notice him. He pushed against the restaurant's front doors, which felt heavier than usual, requiring more of his effort.

Once outside, Nick allowed himself a second to take a deep breath and admire the grayish-blue color of the sky as the sun continued slowly ambling upward. He rested his paws in his pockets and debated his next step. Now that he was unexpectedly free for the day, he could head back to Finnick's van and check out the contents of the flash drive with him and Duke. However, rent was due in a couple of weeks, he would need to buy more groceries soon, and finding a new job was always especially difficult for a fox—even one who was only looking for a position as a lowly cook.

His secret life of crime was a labor of love. He still needed to pay the bills. Also, having a legitimate job helped keep him off the police's radar. The sooner he got started finding new work, the better.

Mind made up, Nick headed home to properly clean himself up and check out open cook positions online. Then he dressed in a green Hawaiian-print button-up shirt with a striped tie and sand-colored slacks—the sort of fashion choice that often earned him some teasing or even scorn, but hey, he'd landed jobs dressed this way before.

He was in out within a couple of hours. With a list of hiring restaurants and a few copies of his résumé, he started off down the street outside his apartment complex toward the nearest prospective employer, whistling merrily to himself.

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:35 a.m._

* * *

No longer whistling, Nick heaved an exhausted sigh as he walked toward the doors of Basic Instinct, a quaint diner known for catering to both prey and predators using simple meals with simple recipes made from quality ingredients. He'd eaten here a couple times himself and found the food to be pretty decent, which meant it was delicious by the standards of most mammals. This would be a nice place to work.

Assuming they could get past his species, of course. Unlike every other restaurant he'd visited so far that day.

Steeling himself, Nick pasted his most charming smile onto his face, pushed the door open, and sauntered inside.

He studied his surroundings. The diner was several decades old but in good shape and tastefully decorated, featuring a clean black-and-white checkered floor and artificial flower vines artfully hung along the rims of the white walls. It took him a moment to realize that the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were shaped like open upside-down tulips with shining lightbulbs set in the middle, which he rather liked. Light, cheerful music played over the speakers, but it was a song Nick didn't recognize.

The kitchen was situated close to the dining area, lined with faux leather booths and small tables with faux leather chairs, an open serving counter allowing the patrons to see the cooks working busily behind it. Nick wondered which one was the manager, if any of them. He took a step forward to ask but noticed a sign reading _"PLEASE WAIT HERE"_ directly in front of him. He looked around, but no host was waiting next to it.

Although it wasn't quite time for the lunch rush, there was still a respectable crowd of mammals sitting in the various booths, chatting and enjoying their food. The servers were easy to find; the males all wore white polo shirts with tan slacks while the females were donned in cute, knee-length, short-sleeved white dresses. All of them had black pocketed aprons and notepads. They scurried from table to table, and he tried to catch their eyes by craning and waving half-heartedly, but they were all too focused on their customers to look his way.

Nick waited awkwardly for a moment, trying to decide what to do, when a gray bunny waitress—a very pretty one, he couldn't help thinking—glanced up from her notepad as she was shuffling by the diner's entrance on her way toward the kitchen. She smiled genially at him, and Nick grinned back, but only because he noticed that the pen she was using was shaped like a gigantic carrot. Her nametag read _"Judy."_

"Have you been helped, sir?" Judy asked brightly, and Nick admitted to himself that her warm violet eyes were quite striking.

"No, but I'm actually just here to see a manager," he explained, indicating the résumé in his paw.

"Oh, sure!" Judy chirped. "Follow me." As she led him toward the kitchen door—down a hall off the dining area and opposite another door that read " _OFFICE_ "—she smiled over her shoulder at him, but he noticed how her nose twitched a bit anxiously. "It's great that you're applying! We could really use the help."

Nick only nodded, maintaining his easy smile. Judy left the kitchen door open after she went inside, but Nick decided to wait just outside of it while she spoke with a surly-looking middle-aged goat who was stirring something in a pot of the industrial stove. They exchanged a few words—Judy's tone remaining amiable while the goat's was rather terse—until they both turned around to look at him. The goat narrowed his eyes and dropped his ladle in the pot to walk toward the door. His nametag sported the name _"Yannis."_

"You want to apply?" he queried gruffly.

"Yes, sir," Nick replied, handing over his résumé. The goat began perusing it immediately. "As you can see, I've had extensive experience cooking for numerous restaurants—"

"Most of your stints are rather short-lived," Yannis commented as he peered at Nick's work history. "Makes you look like a typical unreliable fox." He raised a skeptical brow at Nick. "Are you unreliable, Mr. Wilde?"

A conversation similar to this one had already happened several times that day. Resisting the urge to sigh and just leave right then and there, Nick shook his head. "Not at all, sir. Unexpected circumstances forced me to leave each of those jobs, but I'm good at what I do."

Yannis only glared suspiciously at him for a moment. Finally, he shoved the résumé at Nick's chest.

"I'm afraid we don't have any room on our team for a fox," he stated coolly. "Sorry things didn't work out."

Well, at least the rejection came quickly this time. Unable to stop his shoulders from slumping forward a little, Nick fought to keep smiling as he nodded. "Well, thanks for your—"

" _Yannis!_ " a voice inside the kitchen exclaimed. "Are you _serious_?"

The goat half-turned to regard Judy, who stood with her fists propped on her cocked hips and a stern look on her face. Nick had actually forgotten that she was still there.

"What are you talking about?" Yannis queried.

"I'm talking about you turning him away just because he's a fox," the bunny answered. "That's specieist, and I _will_ report you for it."

"Quite a threat coming from someone who hasn't even worked here for a _week_ ," Yannis sneered. "No one answers to you, bunny. Leave this to management, or you may be leaving this diner _with_ him."

"Ah, now you're threatening _my_ job for calling you out?" Judy shifted her weight onto her other leg. "I'm sure Brady and Lila will be a bit disturbed to hear that."

At that, Yannis fully faced her and crossed his arms. "Look here, bunny, I've been here for close to ten years. You've been here for six days. Who do you think they're going to listen to?"

"Good question," Judy said as she tapped her lip with an exaggerated look of thought on her face. "Let's ask my old friend, Yannis-from-eight-seconds-ago."

Then, with half-lidded, self-satisfied smirk, she pulled her carrot pen out of the pocket of her apron and pressed a little button that played back Yannis's voice. " _Leave this to management, or you may be leaving this diner with him,_ " he was saying.

The goat's mouth fell open, and Nick's own eyes widened. He had to fight the temptation to grin. This was an interesting little bunny.

Several moments passed in which the only sounds were the dulled din of conversation from the customers, sizzling grills, and chuckles of the other two cooks—a sheep and an otter—who, up until that point, had been trying to pretend that they weren't paying attention to what was happening.

Finally, Yannis turned back toward Nick, his scowl barely betraying his fury. "Well, can you cook, or can't you?"

"Yes, I can cook anything," Nick replied, now trying in vain to hide his amusement.

"Then prove it," the goat snarled, whirling to snatch an apron from a rack just inside the kitchen and tossing it at Nick. "I'll give you a trial run this afternoon. If you cook everything without a problem, you can stay. If you can't, don't show your face here again, you hear me?"

"Absolutely, sir," Nick nodded.

"Bunny!" Yannis snapped as he spun around. "Clock out. Time for your break before the lunch rush. You—" He pointed at Nick. "You'll start when she clocks back in."

"My name is Judy, you know, not _bunny_ ," Judy said dryly as she began untying her apron.

"I know," Yannis said simply yet snidely. The moment Judy left the kitchen, the goat slammed the door shut. A few of the customers jumped, but no one commented on it.

"Well," Judy grinned up at Nick as she slung her apron over her forearm. "Care to join me? I'm Judy Hopps, by the way," she added as she extended her paw, apparently forgetting that her nametag had already revealed half of that information to him.

He dipped his head graciously at her and accepted her paw, shaking it gently. "Nick Wilde."

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:54 p.m._

* * *

"Sorry about Yannis's behavior," Judy was saying as she stirred her vegetable soup. She had offered Nick her sandwich, but he politely turned it down, and he was now sitting across from her in a booth at the far corner of the diner, his back pressed against the window and his legs sprawled across his seat as he watched her eat. "It's just—I can't believe some mammals still have such awful attitudes toward foxes. It's just inexcusable nowadays. We should know better by now, right?"

"Sure," Nick replied casually, but he noticed the twinge of nervousness that passed over her face when her eyes fell on his claws, and he could smell just a hint of fear coming from her small form. She wasn't as prejudiced as other mammals, but she clearly still had some issues, and it rankled him. Mammals who tried to pretend like they held no biases were sometimes more frustrating than the ones who were open about them. He was tempted to bare his teeth at her, just to knock her down a few pegs, but—well, she _had_ helped him get a job, or at least a trial afternoon, so he decided to let it slide. For now. "I'm used to it, though," was all he said.

Judy's face fell into an expression of sympathy before she took sipped up a spoonful of soup. "That's a sad thing to be used to," she said quietly, and Nick was a bit surprised to find that she seemed sincere. She soon perked up, though. "I hope you do well this afternoon! You seem like a nice guy, and like I said, we could really use the help. The cooks have been struggling ever since Randol disappeared."

That caught Nick's attention. He raised an eyebrow. "Disappeared?"

"Yeah," Judy nodded, suddenly looking worried. "Randol had been a cook here for a few years, but he suddenly went missing just a couple days after I started working here. The police haven't had any luck finding leads."

"How surprising," Nick mumbled sarcastically. Judy shot him a look that was somewhere between questioning and irritated, but it soon passed, and she resumed eating. "So what kind of mammal is he?"

"He's a bobcat," Judy answered with a sigh. "And one of the sweetest mammals I've ever met. I hope he's okay."

Nick nodded, mentally filing the information away for later use. His gaze fell on a framed 8x10 photograph on the wall across from their booth. It displayed a dark-haired lion and modestly pretty antelope arm-in-arm, both middle-aged and smiling proudly. The caption on the plate at the bottom of the frame read, " _Brady and Lila Maneford: Owners of Basic Instinct._ " He tilted his head curiously. They appeared to be married. A romantic relationship between a predator and a prey wasn't necessarily _strange_ , at least not in Zootopia, but it _was_ uncommon.

The sound of Judy's light slurping made Nick look at her again, and he watched her for a moment. "So what brought you to this little diner?" he asked conversationally. "Got a passion for waitressing?"

For just a second, Judy's ever-present smile faltered. "No, but it's a job, and I needed one, especially since I still haven't found a permanent place to stay. Actually," she said excitedly, "I wanted to become involved with some mammal rights groups. There are lots of great causes to get involved in, but I'm especially interested in helping convince Mayor Lionheart to pass the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. That way, I can become a police officer!"

It took all of Nick's years of experience as a criminal to keep his poker face from shattering into boisterous laughter. He stared at the bunny with a carefully neutral expression, although he allowed a tiny smirk to cross his lips. "Really? You want to be a police officer?"

"It's been my dream all my life," Judy sighed, resting her cheek in one paw. "I feel like that's the best way for me to make the world a better place."

 _Make the world a better place? Have I stepped into an after-school special?_ Nick snickered internally. After taking a moment to compose himself, he said, "But you do realize that even if the Mammal Inclusion Initiative passes, the chances of you actually becoming a police officer are still pretty slim, right?"

For the first time since he'd met her twenty or thirty minutes ago, Nick saw Judy's face harden. "Excuse me?" she queried with just a hint of ice in her tone.

"I mean, large mammals make the best police officers for a reason," Nick continued. "Several reasons, in fact."

"So what are you saying?" Judy sat back and folded her arms tightly. "Are you an expert in what a bunny can or can't be?"

"Not exactly, but I'm an expert in understanding that everybody has limitations," Nick shrugged. "And I think police work is pretty far out of a bunny's league. You should stick to something realistic for you. Waitressing is a good start. There's also office work or farming."

The last idea seemed to strike a nerve. Judy visibly stiffened before leaning forward to point her finger sternly at him. " _No one_ tells me what I can or can't be. I _will_ become a police officer, and maybe _you_ will actually have a steady cooking job by then."

It wasn't a bad jab, Nick thought, but she was clearly not accustomed to insulting other mammals. He smirked at her again. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

They finished her break in silence—stony on Judy's part, apathetic on Nick's.

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:30 p.m._

* * *

As Judy was clocking back in, Nick tied his cooking apron around his torso and washed his paws. When he entered the kitchen, the sheep and otter—Greg and Andy, respectively, according to their nametags, and both somewhere in their twenties—smiled amiably and nodded, but Yannis only deigned to glower at him for a moment. After Andy gave him a quick rundown of where to find everything, Nick was given charge of the grill, which was directly behind the service counter.

That happened to put him next to Greg, who was doing prep work. As Nick examined the order slips hanging above the service counter and slapped some bug burger patties onto the grill, Greg busied himself slicing one after another of the vegetables piled high at the side of his station. The two made small chit-chat for a little while before Judy came up to the counter to drop off another order slip. Nick couldn't help smirking at how determined she looked as she avoided eye contact with him.

He nodded toward her as she scampered over to a couple of her customers who had called her name. "How much you want to bet Carrots over there just moved here from Bunnyburrow?" he asked Greg.

Greg raised his eyebrows and stopped moving his knife. "Carrots?" he repeated. "Why Carrots?"

"Because she carries around a carrot pen bigger than her own arm, and because—like I said—she's from Bunnyburrow, which is full of carrot farmers," Nick explained confidently.

Shrugging, Greg turned back to slicing vegetables. "I haven't talked to her much, but I don't know if she's from Bunnyburrow. Why would you say that?"

"She's naïve, she talked about needing a place to stay, and she seemed upset when I suggested she become a farmer," Nick replied, holding up a finger for each piece of evidence.

"Maybe it upset her because she's _not_ from Bunnyburrow and doesn't appreciate strangers making assumptions about her," Greg suggested.

"Well, we can find out," said Nick. "Want to bet on it?"

Greg gave him a sidelong glance. "I don't know."

"Aren't you a betting sheep?" Nick leaned toward him, grinning conspiratorially. "Or am I mistaken about the meaning of those poker chips on your keychain?"

Eyes widening, Greg glanced at his keys dangling from his back pocket. "Uh—that's not—it's not—I mean—" he stammered, then sighed and chuckled. "Okay, you got me. You want to encourage my bad habits?"

"It's just a small bet," Nick assured him. "Five bucks."

Greg nodded, amused. "You're on. Here's your chance."

Nick swiveled his head to find Judy approaching quickly, her face schooled with an indifferent expression. Nick leaned across the counter, laying his chin in one palm and offering her a suave smile.

"Hey, Nick, table four wants a side of beets," she said matter-of-factly.

"Carrots—"

"No, beets."

"No, I'm calling _you_ Carrots."

"Why are you calling me Carrots?!"

"Because I can."

"No, you can't!"

"Carrots, can I ask you something?"

"Can you give me the beets?"

Rolling his eyes, Nick grabbed some sliced beets from Greg's station and dumped them into a small bowl, which he slid across the service counter.

"Thank you," Judy quipped primly as she snatched it up and hurried away before he could say anything else.

"Hey, wait!" Nick exclaimed, but she ignored him, and he scowled at her retreating form. The whole exchange had taken place in a matter of seconds.

Beside him, Greg was laughing quietly to himself. "Nice."

"This doesn't mean you win," Nick informed the sheep.

"I know, I know."

While grilling, Nick kept a careful eye on Judy, willing her to come back to the counter, but all of her tables already had food. She was busy cleaning off empty ones, setting out silverware, seating new customers, and chatting jovially with everyone. In the back of Nick's mind, he recognized that he liked how animated she was, but he was mostly focused on making sure that he was prepared for when she came back. It was inevitable, after all. In the meantime, he interacted as minimally as possible with the other servers when they came over with their order slips, though they didn't seem to care.

Finally, some of the new customers at one of her tables had decided on their orders, which she wrote down with that comically large carrot pen. As soon as she was within earshot, he called out, "Hey, Carrots!"

Judy shot him a quick glare, then looked away and lifted her chin proudly. Having left her order slip, she turned back to the dining area.

"Wait, I just want to know if you're from Bunnyburrow!" Nick rushed out.

She pivoted to face him, a quizzical expression on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Nick shrugged.

"'Just curious'? Is that why you're acting so desperate to know?" Judy arched her brow at him, one paw resting on her hip.

Nick smiled genuinely at her. He could appreciate an observant mammal. "I like getting to know my co-workers."

"Well, you're not officially my co-worker yet, _Slick_ ," she said, using her tongue to exaggerate the consonants of the nickname she had just given him. Nick's smile grew wider. "But if you _must_ know, yes, I'm from Bunnyburrow."

"Oh, really," Nick replied casually, suppressing a triumphant grin as he heard Greg curse under his breath. "I've heard it's a nice place. Lots of carrot farmers."

Judy nodded curtly, but she didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation, so she turned and headed toward another table where she had just seated new customers a little while earlier.

Forcing his grin to remain casual, Nick moved away from the grill to lean on Greg's station with his elbow. He waited.

With an exasperated sigh, Greg reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, produced a five-dollar bill, and slapped it into Nick's open palm.

Behind them, Nick heard Andy snigger while Yannis grunted.

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 5:32 p.m._

* * *

The sun was gradually descending behind the horizon, painting the sky in shades of azure and sherbet. It would still be several hours before darkness would fall, but the warm late spring air was already starting to cool.

Having stepped away from the grill and hung his apron, Nick stretched and yawned as the evening crew started taking over the duties.

Yannis was giving instructions to an ewe cook who kept exchanging flirty glances with Greg when the goat's back was turned. Nick amused himself watching from the back of the kitchen for a few moments before spotting Judy walk into the office across the hall from the kitchen door. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to follow her, but knowing that he had real reason to entertain it, he soon shook it off. Besides, most of their interactions that day had been short and a bit taciturn on her part; there was nothing to indicate that she'd welcome his company.

Soon, Yannis turned his attention to Nick, and he hurriedly pushed aside his thoughts of the bunny. Standing straighter and donning a pleasant but easygoing expression, he waited to hear the verdict.

The goat allowed several seconds of contemplative silence to pass between them as he eyed Nick from head to toe. Finally, he sighed. "Can you work the day shift Tuesday through Saturday?"

"Absolutely," Nick answered, his heartbeat picking up pace.

With a single firm nod, Yannis began removing his own apron. "Then you start tomorrow. We'll fill out the paperwork in the morning and make sure you get paid for the hours you put in today. Be here at eight-thirty. No later."

Internally pumping his fist, Nick held out a paw for Yannis to shake. "Sounds great, sir! Thank you so much for the opportunity."

Yannis sniffed and ignored Nick's paw, stepping away to hang up his apron wordlessly. Shrugging, Nick followed him out of the kitchen and started heading toward the front door. He glanced back when he heard the office door open and Judy apologize for being in Yannis's way. As she strode down the hall, her eyes were trained on her purse, searching for something as she dug around. Finally, she pulled out her phone, uttering a small "Aha!" Then she looked up and paused when she saw Nick staring.

He tried to make the situation feel less awkward by giving her a friendly smile. "Looks like we're officially co-workers now, so I can ask you all the personal questions I want to, right?" he teased.

"Congratulations," Judy said stiffly, shuffling past him and out the door.

Nick was right behind her, but just as he was turning in the opposite direction from where she was going, his sharp eyes noticed her thumbing through apartment rental ads and stopping on one featuring his own. He tilted his head curiously. "That one's mine," he said before he could think better of it.

Blinking in surprise, Judy glanced back at him over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Uh," Nick faltered, rubbed the back of his neck, then pointed at her phone. "That apartment. That's mine." Now to come up for a reason why he'd even bring it up. "It's not really that great a complex. Incompetent management, unresponsive maintenance crew—don't bother with it."

"Well, it's got to be better than…" She trailed off and suddenly started scrutinizing him closely, brows furrowed. "Wait, so you're looking for a roommate?"

"My _landlady_ is looking for a roommate _for_ me," Nick replied with a scowl. "She doesn't trust me to be able to pay the rent by myself." Then he sighed heavily and muttered, "Of course, I've never missed a payment, but hey, what can you do?"

Judy took a step toward him. "Can she actually _force_ you to get a roommate?"

"She's hoping to _strongly encourage_ me," Nick clarified. "But I'm—"

"Can I be your roommate?"

The question almost made Nick jump backward in shock. His eyes bulged as he stared at the bunny in front of him, whose face betrayed no hint of a joke.

" _Why_ would you want to be my roommate?" Nick blurted.

"Well, I'm still looking for an apartment," Judy shrugged. "I only moved to Zootopia last week, and I've been staying in a hotel, but every night there costs almost as much as I make in a day here. I _really_ need a place. And this way, we can split the cost, which is good for both of us, right?"

"I thought you didn't even like me," Nick responded, a bit surprised at himself for even mentioning it. Still, this sudden turnaround in her attitude toward him was a bit suspicious to his mind.

She looked a little ashamed when he brought it up, hunching her shoulders and flicking her gaze away for a moment. "Well, I was mad at you for what you said about how I couldn't become a police officer, but…" Then she shrugged. "I still think that you seem nice enough. I'm sure we'd get along." Her eyes were huge and pleading, and Nick remembered admiring them when he first saw her. "Please?"

Scratching the fur on his neck, Nick looked to his side at the setting sun. He preferred living alone, honestly, and he had felt lucky that he got an affordable two-bedroom apartment all to himself, but she had a point—sharing the cost of rent would certainly be helpful. That way, he could put more money toward his work as the Hustler.

Ah, therein lay another complication. Could he keep his second life a secret from her? Well, he supposed he could. It wasn't like he went out every night, and he could always come up with some reason for it. Hiding his equipment wouldn't be difficult, either; he already used a compartment that he had carved out in his closet for that. Not that he thought there would ever be a reason for her to enter his room, but it was good to be prepared, just in case.

He also reluctantly reminded himself that she had been instrumental in helping him get a job, which meant he owed her.

Besides, she didn't seem so bad.

Letting his paw drop from his neck to his side, he turned his head back to Judy. Her eyes were still locked on him, sincere and full of hope. They made his chest feel uncomfortably soft.

But there was still one more thing Nick had to know.

"Are you sure you wouldn't mind living with a _fox_?" he queried, watching her intently.

She hesitated, and only when her scent became tainted with a tiny smattering of fear did Nick realize that she hadn't been afraid up until that point. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked innocently.

Nick raised an eyebrow at her, but her fear gradually dissipated, and then all he could catch was her natural scent—something floral, fresh, and earthy, although he couldn't pick out all the separate components.

Well, maybe this could work.

"All right, then," he sighed. "Let's stop by your hotel and get your stuff."

He winced when Judy squealed and clapped her paws together. "Oh, thank you, thank you, _thank you_ , Nick!" Soon, she was bouncing around excitedly, and Nick felt tired just observing her energy. It was especially remarkable considering she had just finished an eight-hour shift spent mostly on her feet.

As he stared in consternation, she started bounding away toward the nearest crosswalk, waving at him to follow. "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:46 p.m._

* * *

"Oh, Nick, it's not nearly as bad as you made it sound," Judy said cheerily as she strode into Nick's apartment. "Actually, I think it's nice."

She was dragging a single piece of luggage behind her while carrying one small box, which she set down in the middle of the living room. Nick was balancing _three_ boxes, and he stumbled after her, too busy trying to stay upright to respond immediately to her observation. Grunting with the effort, he bent to place them carefully next to the first one, Judy stepping in to steady them when it looked like they would fall.

Straightening and stretching, Nick stepped to the switch by the doorframe, turned it on, and took a hard look around himself. He supposed it was all right, when all was said and done. A long rectangular window directly to the left of the front door was letting in the first hints of moonlight as the day continued to ebb away. The spacious living room—which was modestly furnished with a couch against the wall adjacent to the front door, a coffee table in front of the couch, and a couple of standing lamps—opened to a small kitchen separated on one side by a wall. Between the wall where the living room ended and the kitchen began was a tiny hallway, where the doors to the two bedrooms could be found, the bathroom situated between them. The pale blue carpets were all a bit stained, and the tiles in the kitchen and bathroom were just boring crisscrossing squares, but everything was intact. An apartment like this would cost far beyond his means in most parts of the city, but as it happened, it was located in a dubious area, so he enjoyed having all the space at such a great rate.

Well, he _had_ enjoyed it.

He looked toward Judy and returned her genial smile, hoping he was doing well at hiding his slight uneasiness. "Well, once the novelty wears off, I'm sure you'll get as tired of it as I am."

"Doubt it!" Judy chirped as she started rummaging through one of her boxes. In a moment, she produced some ceramic dinner plates trimmed with tiny depictions of vegetables and made her way to the kitchen, humming to herself.

Nick glanced down at the luggage and assumed that it was filled with more personal belongings. He grabbed the handle and pulled it across the kitchen floor. Judy looked up as he passed her; he gestured toward the bedroom to the left of the bathroom. "This one will be yours, Carrots."

It looked like she was about to thank him, but when he mentioned her nickname, she pinned him with a sardonic expression instead. "Are you really going to keep calling me that?"

"Oh, definitely," Nick grinned obnoxiously at her. She rolled her eyes, and he continued. "Anyway, it doesn't have a bed or anything, sorry. You'll have to buy whatever you need."

"No problem," Judy said.

As he set the luggage against the wall of her empty bedroom, Nick felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that he had a text from Finnick.

" _You still comin?_ " it read.

The USB!

Nick smacked his own face before composing his reply. " _Sorry, got held up. I'll be right there._ "

After going to his own room and quietly removing his duffle bag from the secret compartment in his closet, he stepped into the kitchen. Judy shot him another smile and pointed toward a cupboard that she had just opened. It was filled with random glass cups and plastic bowls. "Do you mind if I organize this and put some of my dishes in there?"

"Do you what you've got to do," Nick waved a paw dismissively. "But, uh, I've got to head out. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sounds good," she replied before turning to face him fully and grasping both her paws in front of her chest. "And thank you again, _so much_. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

Chest warming, Nick nodded and smirked as casually as he could. "Don't mention it, Carrots." Then he paused and pretended to think hard for a moment. "Actually, please do mention it. Every day. It's good for my ego."

Judy laughed. Nick realized it was the first time he'd heard her do it, and he liked the way it sounded.

"I'll see what I can do," she promised when her mirth had subsided.

Then she turned back to making space for her dishes. With a final worried glance at her, Nick held his breath, walked out of the apartment, and let it out only when he was halfway down the hall.

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:55 p.m._

* * *

When she heard the apartment door shut, Judy leaned around the kitchen wall to make sure that Nick was really gone. There was no sign of him. Admittedly, the fox was intriguing—if frustrating—and she was genuinely curious to know him better. For now, though, it could wait.

She hastily put away the remainder of her dishes and decided the rest of the boxes could just sit for a while. Whirling around and bouncing into her new bedroom, she glanced around quickly for her luggage and zipped it open eagerly. From it, she retrieved a full-body black spandex suit with a depiction of two bright red bullets crossing each other's paths squarely on the chest, leaving trails of fire behind them. Eyeing the right leg, she noted that she just needed to repair a popped seam, and then it should be good to go. With no one around to hear her, she squealed delightedly and hugged it against her chest.

After locating her sewing tools, she set to work putting the last touches on the costume, then undressed and pulled it over her body. Yanking the fabric over her fingers and feet was a bit tricky, but doable. Overall, the suit fit like a glove and wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as she'd feared.

Next, she dug in her luggage until she found her matching black spandex mask, which she had even designed with coverings for her ears. The expensive material that she had bought for this suit was supposed to hide any mammal's scent, but that would be pointless if her ears weren't covered. It might impair her hearing a bit, but she could deal with that.

All she had to do with this was attach the orange plastic eye guard over its single opening. It should protect her in addition to obscuring the color of her eyes, which were one of her unique features and would certainly make her too easy to identify to anyone who got close enough to her.

With more thread and a bit of glue, it didn't take her long to complete the mask. Gingerly, she tugged it over her head. It took a minute or two for her to get her ears comfortable, and as she suspected, the material did muffle her hearing a bit, but it wasn't enough to make a huge difference. The plastic eye guard worked like a charm, too. She could see just fine out of it, and when she looked into the mirror in the bathroom, she hardly recognized herself.

Just one problem—her tail. There just wasn't a practical way for her to cover it up. For that, though, she had a bottle of musk mask, which she sprayed copiously onto the little bit of fluff.

Now all that was left was her utility belt. _Accessories make the outfit, after all,_ she thought to herself, snickering at her own corny joke.

She plucked the belt from her luggage and buckled it around her waist. Making sure every pocket was filled with the things that she needed—smoke pellets, fox repellent, tranquilizer darts (for which she had no gun but could still stab into someone), small pieces of rope, two pocket knives, some bandages and gauze, just in case—she nodded in satisfaction to herself. It would have to do until she could spend money on more and better equipment. Of course, that should be easier now that she finally had a home and didn't have to keep paying for a hotel.

It occurred to her then that she had no idea where Nick went and that he could come back at any moment. Better get out of here.

Heaving a sigh to steel her nerves, Judy went to her bedroom, opened her window, and noted with relief that the apartment wasn't so high up that jumping down would be too dangerous for her. She hadn't thought to check and make sure that there would be a safe way for her to leave before she asked to be Nick's roommate.

As she was surveying the distance between the window and the ground, she heard her phone ringing, half-buried in the pile of her clothes that she left on the floor. She recognized the song; it was her parents. Well, she knew what kind of conversation they wanted to have—how was she doing? Why was she in Zootopia? Was she safe? Couldn't she just accept that she would never be a cop? Couldn't she just live out her life like a normal bunny?

Clenching her jaw, she turned away. They could wait.

After bracing herself and swallowing her trepidation, she leaped down, tucking and rolling as soon as she hit the ground. Immediately, she turned her gaze around her surroundings to make sure no one had seen her. There wasn't a single soul or pair of eyes around.

Smiling proudly to herself, she set off down the street. Tonight marked the dawn of the age of Crossfire, who would make the world a better place—all alone, if necessary.

* * *

 **Random A/N: Because I suspect someone might ask, yes, Pike's Place is sort of a reference to Pike Place Market in Seattle, but no, I'm not from Seattle. I've visited it, but I've never lived there. I just thought Pike's Place sounded like a nice restaurant name.**

 **Also, I modeled Nick's apartment after the first one I had when I returned to college after several years away. The only difference is that his has two bedrooms, whereas I had only one, which I shared with two roommates. Just an interesting tidbit.**


	2. The Race We Run

**Chapter 2—The Race We Run**

 **A/N: There existed here a note about my opinions of the way that the site is run (or rather mismanaged) and how my posting song lyrics was one way to express my discontent even though (or rather _because_ ) it's against the (absurd) rules, in accordance with the spirit of this story's take on Locke's theory of social contracts and how rebellion is both a right and duty. After talking over the matter with my beta readers, I decided to remove the song lyrics (more or less kicking and screaming the whole time because it's the _principle_ of the thing), but you can still see them on AO3.**

 **Enjoy chapter two.**

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:25 p.m._

* * *

The back door of the van slammed open. Finnick glared down at Nick. " 'Bout time."

"I'm sorry," Nick said sincerely. "Things got… complicated today."

Finnick raised a questioning a brow as he stood aside so that Nick could clamber up. "Complicated?"

"Lost my job, had to find a new one," Nick explained, tossing his duffle bag to the side. He almost mentioned his new roommate as well, but it occurred to him that it might make his friends uneasy to know that a stranger was suddenly living with the brains of their operation. That would lead to an argument that he really wasn't in the mood to have, so he left that part out.

"And did you find one?" Finnick inquired.

"Yep," Nick answered simply. Then he spotted Duke lounging against the back of the front seat, a can of beer in his paw and laptop on his legs. They greeted each other with curt nods, and then Nick looked back at Finnick, who was swinging the van door shut. "What did you find on the USB?"

At that, Finnick granted him one of his rare smiles. "Everythin' seems to be there. We can present the files at the next Den o' Thieves meetin' and figure out what to do from there."

"Did anything come up in the news? I haven't had a chance to check it today."

Finnick shrugged. "All that the media reported was that a fire broke out at City Hall this mornin'. I'm sure they don't anyone knowin' the details."

"Of course," Nick smirked, though it quickly gave way to a more hardened expression. "Let's see them try to keep all those predators falsely imprisoned without their records."

Sighing, Finnick reached into the cooler at one side of the van and offered Nick a can of beer, which he accepted. "It's not like they'll just release 'em, but at least we've shown 'em that we won't stand for the abuse anymore."

Nick nodded in agreement, settled himself next to Duke, and peered at the laptop screen. Duke was scrolling through the files of hundreds of predators who'd been accused and convicted of various crimes without sufficient evidence. It had taken months to gather all the information that they needed, but once they had it, they'd put their plan to make a statement into action—stealing the electronic files, deleting them from the computer system, and destroying the paper ones. As long as they didn't have a techie savvy enough to recover the deleted files, all those predators would get to start with a blank slate—once they could leave prison, anyway.

That reminded Nick that it was time to start formulating the next plan. He set his beer on the floor and rubbed his paws together. "So what do you think we should do now? I still think a prison break is a good idea, as long as it's tightly controlled. It should be possible to only break out the innocent predators. We can leave the rest."

"Always gettin' ahead o' yourself, Wilde," Duke sneered. "We gotta consult with the senior Thieves first."

With a displeased grimace, Nick grabbed his beer and took a swig. "Well, when is the next meeting anyway? I haven't heard anything for a while."

Duke shrugged. "Dunno. Probably soon."

Squinting and letting his head fall back against the seat behind him, Nick took a moment to think as Finnick opened his own can of beer and sat down next to him. He broke the silence after about a minute. "Have you heard about the missing mammals?"

Finnick looked at him quizzically after taking a big gulp of beer. "Missing mammals?"

"Yeah," Nick affirmed. "I've heard a comment or two about them over the last couple of weeks. Today, I found out that one of the cooks at the diner where I was hired went missing a few days ago, which is why they needed to fill the position."

"Diner, huh?" Finnick remarked. "Which one?"

"Basic Instinct."

Sticking out his lower lip in an impressed expression, Finnick nodded approvingly. "That's a good one."

"Yep," Nick agreed, taking another sip of beer. "Anyway, all the missing mammals are predators, and the ZPD apparently isn't doing too well at finding them." He paused as both of his friends huffed knowingly, then let a mischievous smile creep across his face. "So what do you say we help them out a little and do their jobs _for_ them?"

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:03 p.m._

* * *

Grunting and rolling her shoulder, Judy walked slowly down an alleyway in Savanna Central. The self-defense classes she had taken and martial arts Ewetube videos she had watched religiously were certainly paying off, but she still had so much to learn. There was a sizeable bruise on her ribs that she would be nursing for a while, and it had been totally avoidable. Still, she had to smirk when she thought of the hyena purse snatcher and hog sexual harasser she had already incapacitated and left for the police to find.

Letting out a tired breath, she leaned against the brick wall of the alley and slid to the ground. Just a five-minute break. That was all she would take, and then she'd get back out there. She closed her eyes.

The sound of glass crashing mixed with alarmed yelling startled her eyes back open. _Never mind_ , she thought with a sigh, jumping up and sprinting toward the source of the commotion. Her heart froze for a moment when she found it.

The ZPD, Precinct One.

Since her childhood, it had been the workplace of her dreams, denied to her simply because of her species. The revolving front doors and windows had been shattered, and she could see officers running around inside, shouting orders at each other as gunfire rang out from multiple directions. But that wasn't the reason why she stepped back for a moment. No, the doubts that she had been taught to harbor suddenly came down on her like a deluge. The reason why those police officers were in there and she was not was because she was a bunny. They could handle this. She wasn't needed.

Then her sensitive ears picked up someone screaming, "Officer down!" That was all it took for her to ball up her fists, a burst of courage, determination, and maybe even a smidgen of smugness rocketing her forward.

Bounding inside, Judy immediately surveyed her surroundings. In an instant, she processed the cracked tiles where stray bullets must have hit them, the frantic (and _very_ rotund) cheetah receptionist calling for help on the communicator, the shrill sound of alarms, the tigress officer bleeding from her side on the floor, the wolf officer keeping her calm while putting pressure on the wound, and a few more officers raising their tranquilizer guns at a ferociously arguing trio of mammals jumping on top of the receptionist's desk, dressed head to toe in black turtleneck sweaters, gloves, boots, and utility belts with numerous pockets and pouches. Their ears were pressed flat on their heads under ski masks, eyes protected by colored goggles. Small gray boxes with speakers held against their mouths with straps around their heads crackled, distorting their voices. Like Judy, every inch of their bodies was concealed except for their tails, from which she could tell one was a jumpy weasel who was being severely remonstrated by a red fox and a fennec fox. They were all brandishing pistols— _very_ illegal in Zootopia—and the fennec was keeping one trained on the cheetah to discourage the other officers from firing at them. Despite the tense situation, the foxes were both gesturing heatedly at the gun in the weasel's paws.

Before Judy could focus on what they were saying, they suddenly swung around and pointed their guns at the police officers who were screaming orders to drop them. The weasel lunged forward wildly, planting a few more bullets in the tile and provoking the officers to leap backwards, cursing vehemently. The fennec fox hung his head in a show of exasperation while the red fox muttered something and then darted toward the stairs leading to the basement, carrying a dark gray briefcase with him. The officers frantically aimed their tranquilizers at him, but he dodged them all, twisting his body to almost casually shoot the tranq guns out of the officers' paws with his own pistol in rapid succession as he dashed away. The tranq guns broke apart upon landing several feet away. Grimacing in both shock and fear, the officers threw their arms in the air, pinned where they stood by the weapons leveled in their direction and next to the cheetah's head by the weasel and fennec, respectively.

All of this having occurred in the space of mere seconds, Judy hadn't yet been noticed by anyone. She moved hastily but silently to hide in a shadowy corner behind the two dangerous mammals. They were both small and would be easy for her to take out, provided she retained the element of surprise. Watching them closely, she tiptoed to a spot that would give her a running start directly behind them.

After yelling at the officers to get on their knees, the fennec kept one gun trained on them and the other on the cheetah while the weasel went around swiftly binding their wrists together, including the cheetah at the reception desk. He instructed the wolf who was aiding the injured tigress to keep doing what he was doing but still made sure he was tied up. Even the bleeding feline officer wasn't spared, being forced to endure the bullet in her side with her paws held fast.

Once the criminals were standing next to each other again, they spoke quietly but angrily between themselves, too distracted to register the soft, rapid taps of Judy's feet against the hard floor until she was almost upon them. With an expert leap onto the reception desk and a strong, well-timed split kick, she knocked both their guns from their paws, grinning when she beheld their bulging eyes and dropped jaws. She only allowed herself a moment to gloat, however, before bending lower to grab the fennec by the arm, twisting it around as she turned her back to him and then throwing him over her shoulder to make him smash into the torso of the weasel. They landed with an immensely satisfying "Oof!" several feet away and made excruciatingly slow movements to get up—so slow, in fact, that Judy had no trouble rushing over to pull some rope from her belt and tie their wrists together in a single tangled knot before they fully realized what was happening. They were clearly unaccustomed to physical combat. It was just too easy.

"Whaddya think you're doin'?!" exclaimed the fennec indignantly, though Judy could barely understand him through the voice distorter on his face.

"Enacting justice," Judy answered, panting lightly as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. "What else?"

The two criminals struggled fiercely against their binds, but they stopped to gape when she kicked their guns toward the flabbergasted cops, who were still nearly prostrate on the floor as they witnessed the scene.

"I'm just here to help, guys!" she proclaimed proudly. "Just let me get the last one, and then—"

Just as she was turning to head toward the basement stairs, she yelped and jumped back in surprise as a bullet bounced right between her feet and ricocheted harmlessly to the side. Looking up, she saw the red fox studying her with narrowed eyes, his gun looking so at ease in his paw that he may as well have been holding a doughnut for all the concern he showed about it. In his other paw, he clutched the briefcase that she'd seen him taken to the basement; she could only assume he'd filled it with something.

"Who's this joke?" he cocked his head lazily and sighed like a parent walking in on his toddler throwing around toilet paper in the bathroom. The distorter made his voice sound deep and throaty, sending a tingle down Judy's spine that she ignored.

Instead, she widened her stance and positioned her clenched fists at her sides. "My name is Crossfire!" she announced, remembering at the last second to change the quality in her tone so that she sounded more alto than mezzo-soprano, adding a farmer's drawl just to be extra sure that she couldn't be recognizable to anyone. She tried not to flinch at how silly it felt. Her accent would clearly need some work, but that would have to wait.

As she was trying to hide her embarrassment, she saw the fox's eyes slowly blink at her. "Really," He said flatly, then used the gun to idly indicate her bodysuit. "You make that yourself?"

Judy almost looked down at it but managed to keep her gaze fixed firmly on her foe. "Is there a problem?"

He only raised an eyebrow at her, then inquired, "Why Crossfire?"

Elated that someone asked for the first time, Judy drew herself to her full height—which wasn't very tall, she knew, but she hoped it would make her speech as impressive as possible. "Our world is saturated in darkness, and it's short on heroes to combat it. I place myself in the space defining the exchange of destruction and noble struggles constantly being traded between the guilty and the innocent respectively, protecting the truth and justice with my very life. I am the first line of defense, the buffer between good and evil. That's why I'm called Crossfire."

Behind her, she heard the fennec and weasel groan, and even a couple of the officers snickered. Heart pounding, she fought off a blush—though they wouldn't have seen it under her mask anyway—and tried to keep up the illusion of confidence. The cheetah at the receptionist's desk let out an excited but muted squeak. Her eyes remained locked on the red fox, however, and she thought she could see a real smile in his eyes, though he chuckled.

"Well, you don't let things get to you, I'll give you that," he stated. "Not bad for a cute little bunny."

The word "cute" immediately irked her. Judy glared and pointed at him. "Enough talk. You've attacked police officers at the ZPD and stolen what isn't yours. You won't get away with it."

The fox's eyes hardened. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. Then they both moved at once.

Judy darted forward in a quick jig-jagged pattern, certain that her speed should outmatch the shots she anticipated the fox would aim at her. They never came, however. Instead, she saw him stick it in a holster at his belt and cross his forearms together just in time to block her as she jumped high and tried to slam her foot into his face.

The next minute or two passed in a flash as they engaged in a dance of swipes, lunges, punches, kicks. The fox was clearly far more well-versed in fighting than his companions; his movements were smooth and calculated in contrast to hers. He restrained himself in an effort to conserve energy, she could tell, while she was pouring as much strength as she could into everything she did. Though neither landed a hit on each other, Judy found herself exhausting everything she had ever learned and taught herself trying to push an offensive on him. To her relief, he seemed to be tiring out rather quickly. His skill level was high, but his endurance was low.

He seemed to realize this as well; his movements suddenly grew more desperate. When he dodged one of her high kicks, he took a risk, stepping closing to her and swiping a paw near her face. It would be easy to avoid, but as it neared her, a flashback charged through her mind—memories of another fox's paw, claws sharp and extended, leaving a mark on her cheek and a reminder of—

 _No!_ Judy shook her head to chase it away, but the momentary distraction cost her. Although she managed to evade his paw, the darkly clad fox followed it up with an open-palmed hit to her stomach with his other paw, sending her several feet back. He paused to see if she would get up, and with a growl, she did, picking up the offensive with a new sense of rage.

After keeping him busy with moves aimed at his upper body, Judy surprised the fox by dropping into a sweeping kick that sent him crashing to his back. As they both panted heavily, she set one foot triumphantly on his chest and bent her face toward him with her fists on her hips. "Who were you calling a _cute little bunny_ , fox?" she drawled.

"All right, you got me," he said, but Judy's ears perked up when she noticed a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're not just cute. You're positively _adorable_."

With that, he held up a canister of fox repellent, aiming it at her. The second that she realized with a panic that he had taken it from her belt, he sprayed it directly at her face and rolled away after she leaped off his chest and before the cloud could descend on him, leaving her coughing, sputtering, and blinking away tears. Even with such a tight suit and closed-off mask, the repellent was remarkably potent, and Judy suddenly wondered if she'd ever actually be able to bring herself to use it on anyone. Somehow, it had never occurred to her that it would hurt so much.

Over the sound of her own gasps, she heard the fox yell flippantly at her, "It's called a hustle, sweetheart!" When she took in a sharp breath to formulate a furious response, she accidentally inhaled more of the spray and coughed even harder.

By the time she could compose herself and see properly again, neither the red fox nor his companions were anywhere in sight. However, the red and blue lights of police cars and ambulances were flashing outside the precinct. Despite feeling a certain pride in her accomplishments in her first night as a vigilante—her failure to apprehend these criminals notwithstanding—Judy wasn't naïve enough to think that the police officers would thank her. While the attention of the officers on the floor was turned toward the lights, she slipped away to hide in the stairwell leading down to the basement, stopping to hear what would happen.

Judging by the footsteps, she guessed that maybe a dozen cops swarmed inside, tranquilizer guns ready. Some mammals announced that they were paramedics, urging officers to move out of their way; Judy knew that they would be tending to the wounded tigress. Faintly, she could hear the officers discuss everything that happened. She couldn't help but grin when she picked up the delight in the cheetah receptionist's voice when he mentioned her. It was with some reluctance that she moved to hurry silently down the stairs when someone with a particularly deep, gruff voice commanded a couple of officers to look for her.

After studying online pictures of the precinct's layout so often back in Bunnyburrow—back when she thought she still had a shot of being accepted to the police academy—Judy knew that she could escape through some ventilation shafts in the basement. In fact, there would be one in the—

The records room.

The door was wide open, though it appeared intact. The fox must have jimmied the lock.

She ran inside and glanced around. It didn't look like a lot of damage had been done; a few filing cabinet drawers were hanging open, and one was halfway empty. Guessing that it was the one that had interested the fox, Judy peeked inside and read the label of the divider that no longer had any case files nestled inside it: _"Missing Mammals, June 2016."_

Her eyes widened. Missing mammals? The ones from just the last couple of weeks? That would include Randol.

What could they want with _those_?

She had no time to wonder; heavy footsteps were clomping down the stairs. As quietly as possible, Judy jumped to the top of a filing cabinet that was positioned right in front of a ventilation shaft. To her relief, it opened readily, and she scurried inside. Just before closing it behind her, she noticed a scribbled message on the opposite wall.

" _Courtesy of the Hustler."_

There was a stick figure of a fox drawn next to it.

Glaring at it, Judy closed the ventilation shaft, whipped out her flashlight, and began navigating her way to the surface.

* * *

 _Day 1: Monday, June 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:15 p.m._

* * *

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't ice all three of you right now."

The portly arctic shrew dressed smartly in a three-piece suit and sitting on a leather chair atop a desk before Nick, Finnick, and Duke was leaning one cheek into the palm of his paw as he spoke, his tone and expression indicating that he expected to be bored by their answer. They knew better than to believe that, though.

Nick cleared his throat just a tad nervously as he eyed the polar bears flanking the shrew. "Because, Mr. Big, we didn't _actually_ lose any of your guns?"

"But you were so close, and there's no guarantee that you won't lose them next time." Mr. Big frowned deeply, his lip curling and breaking his façade of nonchalance. "Especially since you're clearly so prone to bouts of imbecility, evidenced by your willingness to attack a police precinct directly on a whim."

"First of all, it was after dark, and the precinct is relatively empty at that time of night, so we knew we stood a good chance of success," Nick protested, hoping he still sounded polite. "Secondly, I'm not sure I'd call it a _whim_ , sir. We had a purpose there."

"And it was?"

Keeping his movements slow so as not to alarm the polar bear bodyguards, Nick slid his briefcase onto the desk beside Mr. Big and opened it to reveal a pile of case files. They had been jostled around when the bears had scooped him and his friends from a street a few blocks away from precinct and loaded them into a limo, but for the most part, they were still organized. The shrew scrutinized them, then quirked an inquiring eyebrow at Nick.

"These are the case files for the mammals who've gone missing in the last couple of weeks," Nick explained. "They're all predators, and the ZPD hasn't found them, either because they're too incompetent or too apathetic. Maybe both."

"So?"

Furrowing his brow, Nick balked for a moment before looking back at Finnick and Duke, who demonstrated their unwillingness to get involved by shrugging and shaking their heads. He drew a deep breath and returned his attention to Mr. Big.

"I think it's within the parameters of the mission of the Den of Thieves to try looking into rescuing these missing mammals ourselves," he said, trying not to sound frustrated by how obvious it was to him.

Mr. Big chuckled. "We make statements to our government through our actions, Nicky," he said, "but we are not vigilantes. Not like that bunny who confronted you this evening. Does she have a name for herself, by the way?"

"Crossfire," Nick answered, smirking. "Something about putting herself in the line of fire between the innocent and the guilty."

Now Mr. Big actually slapped his knee and laughed, a harsh, wheezy noise that Nick rarely heard. It was somewhat grating to the ears. Slowly, the shrew's mirth tapered off, and he tapped his cheek contemplatively with a single finger.

"Well, as ridiculous as she sounds," he rasped, "Kevin and Raymond did witness her capabilities, and the three of you have firsthand experience with them, obviously. We will have to regard her as a real threat." He looked at Nick, Finnick, and Duke each in turn. "If _any_ of you have the chance to bring her to me, do it immediately. In the meantime," he continued, waving his paw dismissively at them, "get out of my sight, and don't let me hear about you using my gifts for such foolhardy things again."

Nick hastily shut his briefcase and snatched it up before Raymond and Kevin sauntered over to forcefully usher him and his friends out of Mr. Big's elaborately decorated (and absolutely freezing) study. As soon as they were in the red-carpeted hallway accented with the occasional expensive painting, they each let out an anxious breath. While Nick set his briefcase next to him and slouched against the opposite wall with his paws in his pockets, Finnick turned to Duke to point a stern finger at him.

"That is the _last_ time I ever let _you_ have anything more dangerous than a _baby spoon_!" he spat with the air of someone who had been holding it back for hours, which wasn't far from the truth. "You almost _killed_ a police officer for _no reason_!"

"He was gonna shoot me!" Duke insisted.

"She," Nick corrected calmly. " _She_ was going to shoot you."

Duke snorted. "Anyway, I was defendin' myself."

"You coulda scared her with a warning shot instead o' pumpin' a bullet in her," Finnick snarled. "We don't kill unless we have no other choice."

Nick felt his fur bristle, but he kept his voice low and cool. "We don't kill _at all_."

He felt the eyes of his friends resting uneasily on him, but he ignored them, keeping his gaze thoughtfully trained on the floor and his expression carefully neutral. At length, Duke intruded on the silence.

"Anyway, there's no point in gettin' upset 'cause I _didn't_ kill her," he sniffed.

"Only 'cause your aim is crap," Finnick grumbled.

"I don't care what Mr. Big or any of the other senior Thieves say," Nick cut into their argument, although he wasn't sure whether he cared if they listened to him. "I'm tired of just blowing things up and drawing graffiti. I'm going to find those missing predators."

As Duke rolled his eyes, Finnick scrutinized Nick from head to toe, as though he were looking for the wrench that got stuck in his gears. "Ya wanna get kicked out?"

"No, but—"

"Then stick with the program, Nick."

"But _why_?" Nick implored, throwing up his paws. "Why aren't we doing more than just making our discontent known, creating explosions, stealing things, and causing chaos? Why aren't we _really_ taking control of what happens to us?"

"Your head is in the clouds again," Finnick scolded him, but it was without heat. "We got sucked into your daydreams tonight, Nick, but we nearly ended up in prison for it. Or worse. No more crazy crap like that. We do what we can, and what we can do is make trouble. That's it."

Already tired of this conversation, Nick sighed and checked the time on his phone. "Well, it's getting late," he said, kicking lightly away from the wall to stretch and then pick up his briefcase. "As much as I love arguing and getting threatened by mammals who are smaller than me, I've had enough excitement for one night."

His friends—whom Nick silently thanked for not commenting on how abruptly he changed the subject—muttered their agreement as they all started ambling down the hallway toward the front door, which was, unsurprisingly, guarded by even more surly polar bears. They passed without incident.

By the time they had slinked through alleyway shadows and reached Finnick's van, Nick was forced to acknowledge the strain that was put on his body by fighting with Crossfire. He knew a lot about paw-to-paw combat mostly by theory and a bit of private practice, and it was honestly a relief that he had managed to keep up with her despite having precious little experience applying it, but the soreness in his arms and legs would be a high price to pay for his safety. In the end, he was lucky that he'd managed to pilfer the fox repellent, as disgusted as he'd felt to actually use it. His utility belt seemed especially heavy where he had placed it for safekeeping.

His mind lingered on the vigilante and her explanation for her actions. He snorted softly to himself as he thought of all the responses he had for her. If she were so concerned about justice, why would she fight to support a system that perpetuates oppression? She was either ignorant, insane, naïve, or—worst of all—totally aware. Somehow, though, he would put his money on naivety.

In any case, her idealism and determination had been laughable, yet it also stirred something like admiration somewhere beneath his contempt. Enemies they may be, but he still found himself harboring a grudging respect toward her. In a better world—or perhaps if he simply weren't a _fox_ —he might have done what she was doing.

After changing into his normal clothes, stuffing his hustling outfit and equipment into his duffel bag, and bidding good night to his friends, Nick trudged the journey back to his apartment. Unlocking the door, he fantasized about how gloriously hot the water would be when jumped into the—

The shower. Which was taken, judging by the light under the closed door and the sound of water sprinkling into the tub.

He had momentarily forgotten that he had a roommate now.

The first thing he did, of course, was to stash his duffel bag and briefcase back in the secret compartment of his closet. Then, with a mighty groan, he flopped onto the living room couch and plopped his forearm over his eyes. After a few minutes, he heard the shower water abruptly cease. Not long after that, the smell of steam, lavender body wash, and damp bunny filled his nostrils when the bathroom door swung open.

"Hey, Fluff," he rumbled without moving. There was a pause as Judy's footsteps halted between the bathroom and her bedroom, and he was certain she was peering over at him as well as she could from her vantage point.

"First 'Carrots,' now 'Fluff'?" she scoffed. "Do you even _remember_ my real name?"

"Sure, I do. It's Ears, right? That's what I heard a customer call you earlier," Nick quipped.

Grinning, Nick could swear he could actually _hear_ her rolling her eyes. Once her bedroom door clicked shut, he swung his feet off the couch, picked out a comfortable change of clothes from his room, and then made his way toward the bathroom. Soon enough, he was stripped and standing under the shower water, grateful that there was still enough heat left for him after the bunny had taken her turn.

He took his time, only leaving when the soreness in his muscles was mostly relieved. As he stepped out, he heard faint voices coming from the living room and scowled. Had his new roommate already invited someone over? The last thing he needed was more strangers in his space.

After scrubbing the towel all over his fur and making an effort at brushing it into something resembling neatness, he quietly opened the door and peeked around suspiciously. His sharp eyes didn't pick up any new shadows or forms, but his ears twitched as he continued hearing someone talking. It sounded different now, though, like it was in the room, but it also wasn't.

It only took another minute or two for him to throw on the red t-shirt and black gym shorts he had brought with him into the bathroom, and then he padded cautiously to where Judy was lounging languidly on the couch, her laptop set in front of her on the coffee table. It was immediately apparent that the voices Nick was hearing were coming from a film she was playing on it. Chiding himself for his paranoia, he smirked amiably and returned the jovial little wave Judy sent him when he appeared. Then he wandered into the kitchen in search of something to eat.

"I got some vegetables," he heard Judy say. "Feel free to help yourself."

"Thanks," Nick replied, keeping to himself the fact that he was desperate for some juicy protein.

Finding a salmon patty in the freezer, he unpackaged it, slapped it into a pan on the stove, spiced it up, squirted a bit of salad dressing to let it sit in something with flavor, and just watched it cook for a while, his brain too tired to do much else. He let the scent of the patty conquer his nose, and it took him a moment to realize that Judy was standing just a couple of feet away, curiously observing it sizzle as she clutched a celery stick.

"Uh," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "It's salmon. You probably won't want to be around while I eat it."

"Oh, I don't mind," she shrugged, her eyes still on the salmon. After a beat, she added, "I hardly ever see meat."

"Well, you don't really have a reason to, do you?" Nick responded. He turned off the stove, though he wasn't sure if it was because he really thought the salmon was done or because it distracted him from feeling anxious about her staring. Rather than transferring it to a plate, he decided to simply grab a fork and eat it straight out of the pan, keeping his eyes averted from Judy as he did so.

At length, Judy asked, "Are you okay, Nick? You seem stressed."

Suddenly feeling defensive, Nick scowled at her. "I had a long day. Anyway, it's kind of unusual for prey to stick around when a predator is eating meat."

Judy's paws flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry! You must feel weird."

"A little," Nick mumbled.

"Weeeeell," the bunny leaned forward and dragged out the word. "I just wanted to ask you something. I mean, when you've had a long day, nothing wraps it up better than a movie night, so why don't you join me on the couch? You're already almost done with that."

"Please, I know how emotional bunnies are," Nick said, rolling his eyes with his mouth full of the last chunk of fish. "I'm not interested in watching some sappy, sentimental—"

The sounds of screaming and gunfire erupted from the laptop. Judy fixed him with a half-lidded gaze, arching her eyebrows while taking a slow, thoughtful bite from her celery stick. She chewed pointedly, mouth open.

"I stand corrected," Nick acquiesced, bowing his head humbly.

Immediately, Judy's face broke out into a grin. To his surprise—and not altogether an unpleasant one—she grabbed Nick's paw and dragged him to the couch. Although she kept a respectful distance from him once they were both seated, she grabbed a fleece carrot-printed blanket that she had laid over the couch's arm and covered both their legs in it.

It wasn't until the movie was almost over and they had both spent time poking fun at the star's overdramatic lines that Nick suddenly realized something was missing. He frowned for a moment, glancing around the room as he tried to place it.

"That's what I'm going to start saying whenever I leave an order at the service counter!" Judy exclaimed and whipped her head around to face him, one ear draped gracefully over her shoulder and her lips pursed dramatically as she squinted at him. Her voice was comically deep. " _Hasta la vista, baby_!"

It hit Nick then that fear was what he had been expecting. He was in close proximity to a bunny he'd just met that day, one that had given signals of her nervousness at least twice already, but now, she offered no hint at all that she was afraid of him. There was no sign of anxiety _anywhere_ in the air. It was clear.

Feeling strangely liberated, especially after the day he'd had, he actually laughed. _Really_ laughed.

Judy grinned and playfully smacked his arm. "Okay, it's not _that_ funny."

Wiping a happy tear from his eye, Nick said, "Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

 **A/N: As a reminder, the story will be updated every weekend, probably on a Friday or Saturday. I've already got some buffer and have continued writing regularly, so there shouldn't be any late posts or hiatuses.**

 **Also, thanks again to Camoss and The StarsShadow15 for their warm encouragement and advice. I'm especially grateful to Camoss for making sure that the exciting parts of this chapter weren't completely ridiculous. Again, please check out their wonderful stories, "A Ray of Hope" and "The Faded Line," respectively. Camoss writes with tailored passion, and The StarsShadow15 mixes sweetness with a great sense of humor. They're awesome, and I'm lucky to call them friends.**

 **Thanks for reading. I'm loving the reactions so far. :)**


	3. What Big Eyes You Have

**Chapter 3—What Big Eyes You Have**

 **A/N: This chapter focuses primarily on building up the friendship between Nick and Judy. I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. There will be plenty of action in the next chapter, though.**

 **Again, if you're interested in knowing what song goes with this chapter, check it out on AO3.**

 **Thanks for all the support the story has received so far! We're still just scratching the surface, and I hope to make it worth your while. :)**

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:22 a.m._

* * *

"We're late!" Judy huffed anxiously as she and Nick rounded the block where the Basic Instinct diner was waiting for them.

The fox directed a smirk and quirked eyebrow toward her. "So you're one of _those_ mammals."

"What do you mean?"

"To you, fifteen minutes early would be on time, and five minutes early is late."

Judy pivoted to walk backwards and stick out her tiny tongue at him. "So I take punctuality seriously. Sue me."

"I just might, Carrots, if your idea of punctuality means I have to regularly wake up a full hour and a half before I'm actually supposed to be at work," Nick quipped. "That _has_ to be some form of cruelty punishable by law."

"As it is, we barely made it out the door in time. If you'd get up on your own, I wouldn't have to resort to using cups of cold water to help you," Judy remarked, turning herself back around and raising her shoulder to her chin in a flirty manner that made him smile.

"Well, if _you_ hadn't decided to keep us up _way_ too late by watching another _Furminator_ movie, I might have had an easier time getting up," Nick returned.

Waving her paw dismissively at his jibe, Judy responded, "I'm _not_ taking the blame for that. You're an adult, Nick. Why didn't you just go to bed before me if you were so worried?"

Nick opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it, knitting his brows together. _Good question, actually_.

By then, they had reached the front of the diner, so he shrugged off the thought, opened the door, and flourished his paw inward with a bow. Judy dipped her head gratefully and bounced inside.

The diner wouldn't officially open for another half hour, but Yannis and Greg were already in the kitchen, chopping fruits and vegetables and warming up the equipment. The goat was muttering something about how the night crew never cleaned the grill properly, but he looked up and fell silent as he heard Nick and Judy enter. His eyes narrowed at them. Only then did it occur to Nick that it might seem strange that he and Judy had arrived together. Judy, however, seemed oblivious to it, skipping toward the office with a cheerful smile on her face.

Deciding it was best to play it cool, Nick adopted a casual pose in front of the service counter, paws in his pockets and posture nonchalantly slumped. He gave a single nod in greeting to Greg, who returned it in kind. Yannis stared at him with a stony expression for several seconds before the door to the office opened, and Judy bounded out, apron tied around her waist and her paws full of cleaner and a rag. As she hummed a jubilant tune and set to work cleaning the tables, Yannis jerked his head in the direction of the office. Nick followed him there.

"Keep in mind that if I see you harassing anyone, you'll be fired on the spot," Yannis grumbled from his chair at a chaotically disorganized desk as soon as Nick had closed the office door behind them.

A hundred sarcastic responses hurtled through Nick's mind, but he settled with, "Good morning to you, too, Yannis."

The goat grunted and rummaged around in a drawer at the desk, finally pulling out a few sheaves of paper and handing them to Nick. "Here's your hiring paperwork. I assume you know how to fill it out since you've already gone through so many jobs."

Once again, Nick elected to ignore the subtle jab, though he couldn't keep just a hint of exasperation from coloring his voice. "Yep, I'll have them done in a few minutes."

"See that you do," Yannis said. "Breakfast crowd will be here at nine o'clock on the dot."

With that, he shuffled out of the office. Nick released a sigh and slumped into the chair at the desk, his mood quickly deflating. The events of the night before rushed back to his memory.

 _What am I doing here?_

About ten minutes passed as he filled in his personal information on the forms and signed and initialed his name in all the required blank spaces. He was occasionally interrupted by a server walking in to officially begin their shift, enduring their suspicious glances with a blank expression. The only employee who even said hello was Andy, though he didn't stick around to chat.

When Nick was done, he passed the paperwork along to Yannis, who had returned to the kitchen. The goat went back to the storage room and returned with a few white polo shirts in Nick's size, shoving them against his stomach with the strict instructions to wear a clean one every day and wash them weekly. Nick went to the bathroom to change and then busied himself helping with the final preparations before Yannis turned over the sign hanging at the door so that the side that said " _OPEN_ " was displayed to the outside world.

Sure enough, just as the goat had said, mammals started waltzing inside right away. Many of them hesitated when they noticed a fox in the kitchen, but none of them left. As Nick watched the servers seat them, he wondered if all the customers had looked at him like that yesterday, too. Admittedly, he had been a bit distracted trying to get Judy's attention, chatting with Greg, and keeping up with the orders.

A smirk crossed his lips when Judy greeted a pair of dik-diks as if they were old friends, even though the way that they were glancing curiously around made it clear that it was their first time at the diner. After watching her lead them to a table, he put his attention on the grill, where he was frying hashbrowns, eggs, bug steaks, and a few other items that had already been requested by other tables.

Another minute or two passed before he looked up and saw a couple of deer, who—like almost everyone else so far—appeared to size him up before deciding to be taken to a table. He frowned and shook his head as he flipped an egg.

 _What am I_ doing _here?_ he asked himself again, this time more heatedly. _Why do I even continue to bother with—_

His thoughts were interrupted when a gray paw slapped an order slip onto the counter, and he blinked as his head shot up. Judy, sporting an immensely self-satisfied grin, winked at him.

"Hasta la vista, baby!" she spouted in a deep voice, then rushed away while giggling madly.

Before Nick knew it, he was smiling softly to himself as he watched her scamper eagerly toward a young fox couple and their kit who had just slowly entered the diner. She bent low to look the kit in the eye to welcome him personally. As she beckoned them to follow her to a table, the kit's eyes brightened when he spied Nick in the kitchen. Once the family was seated, Nick's chest melted when Judy handed them their menus and spoke with them in warm tones.

His ear twitched as he listened to their exchange. After the fox father explained that he already knew he wanted the bug steak and egg breakfast combo, Judy scribbled it down in her notepad—still using that ludicrous carrot pen, Nick noted—and asked, "How would you like your steak, sir?"

The fox blurted, "Over medium." Immediately, he joined his wife, son, and Judy herself as they erupted in laughter. Several other customers glanced at them in surprise or wariness, but they were ignored. Judy shook her head in mock exasperation and pulled a nearby chair next to the table so that she could sit in it, crossing one leg over the other and balancing her notepad on her knee.

"I guess I should get comfortable. This might take a while," she teased.

"Sorry, I was thinking about the eggs!" the father exclaimed, one paw shielding his eyes in embarrassment.

"Well, at least you didn't say scrambled," Judy joked. "I don't even know what I would have told the kitchen."

She kept interacting with the foxes as naturally as though they had been friends for years. Nick watched her as subtly and frequently as he could. He didn't ask himself any more questions about what he was doing there.

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:45 a.m._

* * *

"Bunny!"

Judy halted on her way to the storage room to grab more napkins and twirled around to find Yannis regarding her with his usual scowl, his hooves full of dirty plates that he had just picked up from a recently vacated table. She had given up on trying to get him to call her by name. "Yes?"

"You're late for your break," Yannis stated, gesturing at the clock that hung upon the entrance.

Glancing at it, Judy realized that he was right. The lunch rush usually began right at noon, and she was already behind. While some of the other servers got to take their breaks _during_ the lunch rush, Yannis preferred having her on the floor because she was so fast.

"Sorry, I'll get right on it," she said, telling herself that the napkins could wait until later.

"And tell the fox to take his break, too," Yannis added.

"The fox?" Judy repeated with a terse sigh, feigning ignorance. "You mean the fox whose name is Nick because his parents named him Nick even though he's a fox and foxes have names, too, and his happens to be Nick?"

The goat glared and said nothing before disappearing into the kitchen. Judy rolled her eyes with a shrug and moved toward the service counter. Once there, she reached up to rest her palms on top on it and then laid her chin on her knuckles, looking steadfastly at Nick.

His attention was on whatever he was cooking, so she indulged in a moment to study him. She hadn't known many foxes in her lifetime, so she wasn't sure whether he would be considered attractive within his species, but as she had become accustomed to him, she thought he was rather… aesthetically pleasing. There was something boyish yet sophisticated about him. Though his features were more angular than hers, they still seemed so soft. His green eyes were especially intriguing, sharp and hinting at his layers of intelligence, in addition to strikingly complementing the orange of his fur.

All these thoughts ran through Judy's mind in the two seconds it took for Nick to sense her presence. The moment their eyes met, he granted her a smile, which she returned.

"Ready for lunch?" she asked him.

His smile turned into an amused smirk. "What, just because we had lunch together yesterday, you assume we'll do it again?"

Judy blinked, twinges of embarrassment and disappointment pricking her heart. "Oh," she said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

She was interrupted by his chuckle. "Just teasing, Carrots. I'll be out in a minute." After flipping something, he turned to ask Andy to take over.

As he passed his duties along, Judy went to the office, clocked out, and grabbed the lunches she had packed for Nick and herself from her purse. After claiming the same corner booth that she and Nick had used the day before, she only had to wait another couple of minutes before he joined her, sliding into the side opposite hers with a tired grunt.

"I love cooking," he said as he let his head fall back against the seat, "but it is _tiring_."

"That's why we take breaks," Judy replied cheerfully, handing him the brown paper bag containing his lunch. She paused before digging her salad out of her own bag, watching with bated breath as Nick took a bite from the tuna fish sandwich she had made for him that morning and chewed thoughtfully. "How is it?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's fine. Kind of bland."

"Oh, sorry," Judy said, her ears drooping a little.

"Don't worry about it, Fluff," he winked. "If you hadn't packed it for me, I wouldn't have had time to make anything myself after how long it took me to drag myself out of bed. I appreciate it."

Judy felt herself brighten considerably more at that. "Well, I admit there's still a lot I could learn about cooking. There's not a lot of time for getting fancy when you have two hundred and seventy-eight mouths to feed every day."

To her alarm, Nick suddenly choked on his bite. Just as Judy was wondering whether she needed to hurry over and try to dislodge the food from his throat, he swallowed thickly and pounded his own chest with a fist. " _How_ many mouths?" he gasped.

"Two hundred and seventy-eight," Judy reiterated as she stabbed a forkful of spinach and lettuce. "I come from a big farming family."

Shaking his head, Nick ripped off another piece of his sandwich, and Judy found her eyes lingering for a moment on his teeth, fascinated with their pointy ends. "I don't know how you could _possibly_ handle that," he muttered.

"I didn't really have a choice," Judy shrugged.

Opening the small bag of chips Judy had included with his lunch, Nick asked, "Do you miss them?"

"Yes and no," Judy smiled fondly as she thought of her family. "I love them, but I've also come to appreciate the privacy I get here in Zootopia. Besides, I'm usually too wrapped up in thinking about how to chase my dreams to get homesick."

After a pause, Nick popped a chip into his muzzle and queried, "Have you gotten a chance to see much of Zootopia yet?"

"Not really," Judy admitted. "Haven't had much time."

"Well, how about I show you around a little tonight?" Nick offered. He was smirking casually at her, but it seemed warm. "I can show you some of the best hangout spots."

A grin spread across Judy's face before she even realized it. "That sounds like fun! Let's do it!"

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:18 p.m._

* * *

Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether was just checking her watch with pursed lips when a very rotund ram slipped into the seat across from her. Their dimly lit booth couldn't hide his usual emotionless expression, which used to tug at Dawn's nerves when they first met, but now she simply regarded it as more proof that he was the best mammal for the job to which she had set him. Generally, she was quite pleased with his work. Right now, she glared at him.

"You realize that we're already halfway through my lunch break," she stated flatly.

Doug shrugged. "Work," was all he said.

Scoffing, Dawn took a sip of her water. "This is work, too, you know."

"Yeah," Doug said. "So tell me what you want me to do next so I can get back to it."

With a sigh, Dawn leaned back and crossed her arms. "Fine. Woolter finally figured out which one of Big's drivers was in the limo that was taking Emmitt Otterton to his mansion last week. It was a black jaguar named Renato Manchas. Big has kept the whole incident mostly quiet, but Manchas apparently heard Otterton shouting about Night Howlers before Otterton attacked him."

"Night Howlers?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. " _Midnicampum holicithias_. You should know its colloquial name by now."

"I prefer _proper_ names," Doug replied coolly. "Anyway, you're one of the only mammals I know who's even heard the term 'Night Howlers.'"

"Good," Dawn said curtly. "But that's neither here nor there. We can't risk Manchas talking to anyone else about this. You need to take care of him."

"You mean feed him a bottle of warm milk and rock him to sleep?" Doug asked dryly. Despite the fact that it was obviously a joke, he didn't crack even the slightest hint of a smile.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had. Dawn simply fixed him with a long, stern stare.

Finally, Doug broke the silence with an easy shrug. "Got it. But I won't have a fresh batch of serum ready for a while. I'll need more midnicampum holicithias soon, by the way. I still haven't gotten enough soil to start growing my own."

"I'll have someone get some for you."

"Do you know where Manchas will be for the next few days?"

"Big had him take a month off to recover since Otterton attacked him, so he should be at home," Dawn informed him. "If he goes anywhere, it probably wouldn't be for long. You shouldn't have any trouble finding him."

"Sounds good," Doug said. "Are we done?"

"We're done," Dawn nodded, watching as the ram stood and sauntered away.

The booth was in the farthest corner of the restaurant, but Dawn could still see most of the space as long as she leaned out just a little bit. As she pushed her empty plate to the side and finished her water, she looked around. It was a high-end restaurant that catered to prey, and the owner was more than happy to keep his lips sealed about her meetings with Doug there as long as she supported his love of gentlemammals' clubs with a little extra income under the table. He wasn't exactly her favorite ally, but she couldn't afford to be picky.

Not when the future of Zootopia depended on whether she would win the fight against predators. Not when the power to shape the world according to what she knew was right hovered so close to her grasp.

Eyes darting to her watch again, Bellwether clicked her tongue, left a couple dollar bills on the table, and jumped to the floor. Her hooves made small clacking sounds against the tile as she ambled toward the doors, but no one looked up to notice her. For now, that was good.

But she so looked forward to when they would all hail her as a hero.

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 4:34 p.m._

* * *

A round of laughter made Judy swivel her head toward the kitchen as she hurried past, carrying a few dirty plates with her. She paused and watched as Greg and Andy hastily quieted the noise they were making, resorting to muted snickers as Nick smirked smugly to himself. Despite not knowing what had happened, Judy couldn't keep the edges of her lips from curling upward.

Upon entering the kitchen and placing the dishes carefully in the sink, Andy nudged Nick. "You should tell that to Judy!"

"Tell me what?" Judy inquired curiously, her ears perking.

"I was just telling them a story from when I used to be a bartender," Nick explained.

"And?" Judy pressed, stepping closer.

Rolling his eyes but still smirking, Nick continued. "I overheard a couple of drunk customers talking to each other right at the bar. One of them said that he wanted a piña colada. The other looked at him like he was crazy and said, 'What is a colada, and why do you want to pee in it?'"

At that, Greg and Andy barked another laugh together before they covered their mouths with their paws and continued chuckling, tears forming in the corners of their eyes. Judy was laughing, too.

"You should stay back here for a while, Judy," Andy said as they all calmed down. "He's got some of the best stories."

"Yeah, but he should focus a little more on _cooking_ ," Yannis cut in as he walked into the kitchen from the office. "I'm hearing a little too much noise in here."

"Cooking? I'll show you cooking," Nick said. He snatched up his frying pan, flipped a bug burger into the air, and spun around quickly enough to make a full circle and still catch the patty on the pan. Judy gasped while Greg and Andy murmured their awe. Yannis simply stared with his mouth hanging open.

Nick raised his eyebrows at him. "Not impressive enough? Sorry." Then he pulled another frying pan from a hook above the counter, sent _two_ patties into the air, whirled lightly on his feet, and caught them both with the pans just before they splattered onto the grill. Judy was clapping before she could even think better of it, and after sliding the patties down where they belonged, Nick graced her with a bow.

With a grunt, Yannis shook himself out of his consternation. "If you ever get something stuck on the ceiling, the cost to clean it will be taken out of your paycheck."

"Yes, sir," Nick mock saluted him when he headed back into the office. Andy and Greg were doubling over from the effort to laugh silently, and Judy just gazed at the fox with a delighted grin. He winked at her and whispered conspiratorially, "I think you'd better get back to work, Carrots."

Judy blinked, almost blushing, and turned to leave. "Right. But, um—" She pivoted and opened her mouth, suddenly not sure what she wanted to say, but certain that she wanted to say _something_. "Don't forget that our shift will be over soon!"

With a soft smile, Nick replied, "How could I forget?"

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:37 p.m._

* * *

If Doug weren't already so practiced in the art of feeling apathetic toward most everything around him, the ringing of his cell phone might have broken his concentration and caused his hoof to slip. As it was, he didn't even flinch. He made sure that just the right amount of midnicampum holicithias extract was dropped with the rest of the chemicals composing the serum and took a moment to watch them interact with each other in his pressure container before yanking his mobile out of his pants. It took some effort; he either needed to lose weight or buy looser clothes. That was a problem for another day, though.

Today, the problem was a jaguar. And Doug was sure he could guess who was calling him.

Sure enough, he recognized the purposely unsaved phone number as the one belonging to Dawn's office. He accepted the call with a toneless, "Yeah."

"I just hired a weasel to get you some more Night Howlers," Dawn said hastily in a stage whisper. "I'll tell him to meet you in your lab."

"Good, I should be here for a while," Doug replied. "Then that jaguar will go down in a few days."

"Why does it take so long?" Dawn sighed irritably.

"You can't rush science," Doug answered. "Unless, of course, you're experimenting with the concept of rushing itself."

"I don't know why you insist on never making sense," Dawn retorted. "But whatever—"

"Also, you're late on your payment," Doug interrupted dryly. "I'll work when you can prove that I'll be compensated according to our agreement."

The ewe snarled on the other line. "Fine. I'll wire some money over, but it may take a couple of days to get to you. Call me whenever it is that you get the job done."

"Sure," Doug promised, then promptly hung up. With a sigh, he watched the chemicals continue mixing with each other—slowly, but surely. It would still be a while before the serum would be ready to put into a pellet.

The most frustrating part of the job was that he would spend so long getting the serum just right, and the shot itself only took a second. It was like slaving over a stove for hours just to make a meal that would be eaten in five minutes. Something about it felt anticlimactic and disproportional to the labor that was put into it.

But life wasn't fair. The jaguar would be finding that out in just a few days.

* * *

 _Day 2: Tuesday, June 17_ _th_ _, 7:12 p.m._

* * *

"That hit spots I didn't even know I had," Nick said, stretching as they strode out of the Taaj Cuisine restaurant, which was nestled between a phone store and a bike shop in the Sahara Square.

Judy hummed her agreement and appreciatively eyed the beautiful elephant statue just outside the doors. "Thanks for showing me that place. They don't have anything that spicy in Bunnyburrow, but I loved it!"

"No problem, Carrots," Nick replied, smiling down at her and secretly amused that she had missed an opportunity to entertain a lewd interpretation of his comment. "I'll take any excuse to have someone _else_ do all the cooking and cleaning."

She giggled. "Where to next, tour guide?"

Rubbing his chin in thought, Nick said, "Let me ask you this—green or brown?"

"Huh?" Judy blurted, brows furrowing.

Smirking mischievously, Nick asked again, "Green or brown?"

"Uh…" Judy considered the question for a moment. "Green?"

With a nod, Nick gently laid a paw on her upper back and began leading her down the street. "Green it is."

"Wait, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

After a few minutes of weaving their way around other mammals walking along the sidewalks, they arrived at the Sahara Square train station. A train was already there and waiting for passengers. Upon confirming that they both had an annual pass, Nick boarded it with Judy at his side. They stood next to one of the huge windows, close to an overhead speaker that quietly played radio music.

As the train began to move, Judy pressed her paws and nose against the glass window, clearly enthralled with the city lights and rapidly varying landscapes.

"I'll never get tired of this," she breathed reverently.

Nick shrugged. "Maybe it's just because I grew up here, but the city stopped being fascinating to me when I was kid."

"That's too bad," Judy remarked, turning her attention to him. "How old are you anyway?"

"Thirty-two."

"Oh, really? You look younger."

"Don't try to butter me up, Carrots. It doesn't work."

"I'm not trying to—what? Butter you up? What does that even mean?" Judy giggled.

Nick shook his head with a smirk. "And you? How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-four."

Before he could ponder much on that, the overhead music changed to a bouncy pop tune that Nick recognized as part of Gazelle's recently released album, which, of course, had already topped the charts. He rolled his eyes and turned to Judy in order to commiserate with her—only to find her eyes bright and excited while she started swaying her hips from side to side and pumping her fists in the air.

Nick groaned. "You like Gazelle? Oh, Carrots, I thought you were different."

Judy kept dancing as she cast him a sardonic expression. "Funny, I don't recall asking you for your opinion."

"And I don't recall waiting for you to ask me for it."

Laughing, Judy tried doing a clumsy pirouette. As she stumbled, Nick caught her by the elbow.

"Careful, Carrots," he chuckled and briefly glanced around at the other passengers, many of whom were staring at them. "Keep that up, and you might fool everyone into thinking you're a good dancer."

After shooting him a playful glare, Judy closed her eyes and lifted her chin away from him. "Feel free to leave me alone now."

"Oh, I do feel free, but thanks for checking."

She stuck out her tongue at him before going back to the window to drink in the sights. Nick examined her delighted reflection for a minute or two before joining her.

The train stopped twice, and each time, Judy asked if they needed to leave. Both times, Nick told her no. The third time, however, he tapped her shoulder and motioned toward the sliding doors with his head. She followed him off, and they both spied a large sign in the middle of the platform that read, _"WELCOME TO THE MEADOWLANDS."_

"Okay, so we're in the Meadowlands. _Now_ will you tell me where we're going?" Judy implored in an almost whiny tone as she padded after Nick.

Turning to her and spreading his paws innocently, he asked, "Come on, Fluff, don't you trust me?"

"Yeah, but I still want to know where we're going," she huffed.

Nick opened his mouth to reply, but the significance of the exchange suddenly hit him.

 _She trusts me? Really?_

He hurriedly cleared his throat. "You'll see. We're almost there."

Indeed, only about five minutes passed by the time they reached an enormous park. Rainbow-hued flower plots drenched the hills and grass in meticulously organized formations as dozens of different kinds of trees dotted the landscape, beaten dirt paths winding their way through it all. Here and there, a stone-paved path led to the occasional gazebo or cement bench; many of them had plaques dedicating them to citizens who had contributed something significant or simply had loving family members with the means to put their name somewhere. Since it was already dark outside, there weren't many other mammals around, but that was their loss, since the elegant streetlamps lighting the area granted it a dreamy, ethereal atmosphere. Nick was gratified to hear Judy gasp and see her clasp her paws over her mouth as she gazed around.

She was speechless for a minute before she murmured, "What if I had said brown?"

Nick leaned down and smirked slyly at her. "That's for me to know and you to _maybe_ find out someday, if you're a good bunny."

Her eyes locked on his and stayed there for a moment before she chuckled and looked away.

Straightening, Nick continued. "Zootopia's a big city. It will take a while to really show you everything."

Judy nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, of course. Well," she chirped as she stepped onto the path, "for now, let's go exploring!"

"Okay, you're the boss," Nick quipped as he tailed her.

They walked in silence for a while, Nick content to let Judy admire the scenery in peace. Every so often, he glanced at her to see her reaction and felt pleased that her fascination never seemed to waver. Honestly, although he had been to this park countless times already, it made the whole experience a bit new to him, too.

At length, they started nearing a small mom-and-pop store that had been cleverly built right next to the park. Nick knew that it got a lot of business from the mammals who frequented the area.

"Oh, perfect!" Judy exclaimed as she sped up. "I want to get something to satisfy my sweet tooth."

"Really?" Nick said. "Which one's the sweet one?"

Judy giggled. "Okay, let me correct myself. _All_ of them are sweet."

"That explains so much," Nick replied with mock dryness.

The bunny stopped, set her paw on cocked her hip, and narrowed her eyes teasingly at him. "I'm sorry, but we can't _all_ be smarmy and cynical party poopers, unlike _some_ mammals I know."

Letting his jaw drop open in pretended shock, Nick declared in a haughty tone, "Now _you_ can feel free to leave _me_ alone."

"I do. Trust me, you're not that captivating."

Nick clutched a paw over his heart with a strangled cry. "Agh! _Right_ in the ego!" He collapsed to the grass next to the path, extending his paw dramatically toward her as he spoke with a choked voice. "Tell my children… that I love them… But don't tell anyone else. I want them to wonder."

He heard Judy laugh as she grasped his paw and yanked him upward with surprising strength. "Come on, Slick," she said.

The moment he was back on his feet, Nick's breath left him. Something about this angle and the way the moonlight framed her face made her violet eyes especially luminous and vibrant. It seemed to highlight all the warmth, wit, and cheerfulness that he knew by now lay beneath them.

And that feeling—that deep, shimmery feeling that takes over when the heart freezes up for a moment—was one he recognized. This wouldn't be the first time he'd developed a crush. Never on a bunny, and this one seemed to be especially potent, but he knew the process quite well. He also knew that this was the _worst_ time in his life to nurture it.

There was one more thing that he knew—if he starved it, the crush would die. If he kept his distance, it would fade away. If he—

"You okay, Nick?" Judy asked, cocking her head as she looked at him curiously. "You look kind of upset."

Nick blinked and glanced away. "No, no, I'm good. Sorry, I just realized that I need to, uh… buy paper towels."

"Okay, well, we can go get some," Judy said, hooking a thumb in the direction of the store. As if to follow her own suggestion, she turned toward it, then suddenly noticed a flier pinned to a cork bulletin board outside of it. Gasping in delight, she snatched the paper down and waved it at him. "Have you heard about this?"

Nick gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist to make her hold it still, peering at the words. "The Predators for Harmony Association? Yeah, I've heard of it. They have meetings every Tuesday night. I've actually attended some of them."

"It says here that they discuss ways to advance predators' rights," Judy commented as she studied the flier again. "Prey can join, too, can't they?"

Hesitating, Nick raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, but not many have. Why?"

"Because I want to join!" Judy exclaimed, grinning at him.

Her declaration—and the enthusiasm with which she expressed it—knocked Nick's mind off-balance for a moment. His mouth opened, but it took a few seconds for something to come out. "I thought you wanted to focus on getting the Mammal Inclusion Initiative passed."

"Well, I want to do that, too, but I'm interested in _everyone's_ rights," Judy explained, her eyes back on the flier as she read the details. "Besides, the Mammal Inclusion Initiative would help predators, too, not just prey. Anyway, I want to be as involved with the community as possible." She frowned. "I guess it's too late to go to the meeting tonight, but—" Now she paused and looked hopefully up at him. "Want to go with me next week?"

"Uh…" Nick swallowed. "Sure." A genuine smile crossed his lips. "Actually, that sounds great."

With an excited squeal, Judy started bouncing ahead of him toward the store entrance, tucking the flier into her purse. Nick felt a little lightheaded as he watched her go.

A vibration in his pocket jarred his senses back into place. He fished his phone out of it and saw a text from Finnick.

" _Need to get together with Duke to figure out presentation,"_ it read. _"You free tomorrow night?"_

Sighing, he opted to answer it later. He returned his attention to Judy, who was standing several feet ahead, half-turned toward him and wearing an expectant but patient smile as she waited. She was looking at him with those… those _eyes_ of hers. Those terrible, beautiful _eyes._

Hastily pasting a lazy smirk on his face, he walked as close as he dared to her, and when she was satisfied that he was following, she continued into the store.

Okay, so this crush definitely needed to be—well, crushed, but…

It couldn't hurt to be friends, right?

… Right?

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to my husband, my older sister, my awesome waiter, Jose, at Shari's, and my own sleep-deprived brain for some of the exchanges that occurred in this chapter.**


	4. Take This Sinking Boat

**Chapter 4—Take This Sinking Boat**

 **A/N: Okay, friends, there's a lot of action in this chapter. I think I'm realistic enough to know what my strengths and weaknesses are, and a couple of my strengths as a writer are developing relationships and conveying emotion. However, I'm still figuring out action scenes. This whole story is equal parts labor of love, stress reliever, and practice for my original works, so if you have anything to say that would help me improve, please feel free.**

 **That said, enjoy the fourth chapter. Things are starting to heat up. ;) If you like setting the tone with song lyrics, check out the story on AO3!**

* * *

 _Day 3: Wednesday, June 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:44 p.m._

* * *

Judy loved it when she happened to be in the right place at the right time. As she was wandering the streets (and, occasionally, the roofs) of Zootopia dressed as Crossfire, literally looking for trouble, she happened to pass a Tundratown bar called The Ice Queen just as a commotion seemed to be occurring.

A terrified scream from inside vibrated in Judy's ears. With hardly a pause, she sprinted toward the window belonging to the darkened room from which she'd heard it, dragging a trash can so that she could stand on it and peek inside. The room appeared to be closed off from the rest of the bar.

What she saw provoked her jaw to drop open—two rhinos hunkered in front of a raccoon tied up to a chair in the middle of the room, their profiles facing the window. One of the rhinos was slapping duct tape over the horrified raccoon's mouth. Their voices were muffled through the thick glass, but she could catch a few words here and there.

 _Something, something, "messing around," something, something, "our turf," uh… "Show you what happens," yadda, yadda, yadda…_

Not wanting to barrel into the situation without having a clear idea of what was happening first, she strained her ears forward, willing herself to pick up more. However, when one rhino delivered a right hook across the raccoon's jaw while the other brandished his horn threateningly, she threw caution to the wind and scrambled onto the window ledge. She looked frantically around for a latch of some kind, only to find that it could only open from the inside. With an irritated huff, she dropped to the ground, backed up to the opposite wall of the alley, sprinted forward, and leapt, slamming her feet against the window with all her strength.

Although it didn't budge, she could feel that it had loosened. The voices inside had stopped, too. Quickly, she scrambled to the other wall to get another running start and once again delivered a powerful kick to the window. This time, it snapped out of position. She braced herself to land on the floor of the room, but instead, she bumped against the pudgy stomach of one of the rhinos, who swung his arms too late to grab her before she fell gracelessly to the floor. Before he could react, Judy scurried to her feet and took a few glances around the room. The other rhino was staring at her with furrowed brows and a dropped jaw while the raccoon's eyes flew wide open.

Judy knew she didn't have long to stand there, but it suddenly occurred to her that she was trying to face down two aggressive mammals who were several times her size, and she had absolutely no idea how she was going to pull it off. The rhino she had inadvertently hit when she got inside was glaring pugnaciously at her.

 _Well, looks like we'll be improvising tonight, Hopps._

Gulping, she rushed forward, not really sure what to do besides leap upward and smash her feet against his stomach. She hoped that the incident with the window pane would have already weakened him there.

It hadn't.

She bounced harmlessly off his rock-hard belly. The rhino barely seemed to have registered her attack. The moment she was back on her feet, he reached down and smacked her, sending her flying into the wall. With a gasp, Judy shook her head and shoved the pain in her back and lungs to the recesses of her mind. When she focused her vision, she yelped and rolled clumsily out of the way when she saw the rhino charging at her. His horn crashed precisely where her head had been a moment ago, and the thought of her brains splattering everywhere would have made her feel nauseated if it weren't for being distracted by the impatient growl of the other rhino.

"Maybe you should try actually _tearing down_ the wall next time, Joe!" he was saying condescendingly to his companion, who was brushing rubble off his horn. "I don't think you've drawn enough attention to us!"

"Shut up!" Joe snapped as he glanced around. "Where's the—"

Judy—having taken advantage of the fact that neither rhino had kept his eyes on her for that moment—interrupted him by throwing a smoke pellet at his face. She was banking on the idea that if his body was too hard to be hurt by a kick, then it was probably hard enough to break open the pellet.

This time, her bet paid off.

As Joe coughed and yelled curses, she whirled around and threw another smoke pellet at the horn of the other rhino—and just in time, too, since he was rushing toward her at a terrifying speed. She darted to the side as his momentum forced him to ram into Joe, and they both fell to the floor, screaming obscenities at each other. Despite successfully keeping them off her tail for the next minute or so, Judy knew the thick gray smoke pervading the air would soon fill every corner and descend, so she worked quickly.

Hurrying toward the bound raccoon, she used a pocket knife to carve through the rope keeping his arms together behind the chair. It only took a few seconds, but it was still so much longer than she thought it would be. Hence, by the time he was liberated, she and the raccoon—who ripped the duct tape off his muzzle as soon as he had a free paw—were already hacking up their lungs. Luckily, the rhinos were too busy doing the same thing (in addition to nursing their sore horns) to stop them. It also helped that the smoke had engulfed the room, lowering visibility for everyone. Judy and the raccoon dealt with it by scooching along the wall until they made it to the door on the opposite end. Once she was close enough to see it, Judy bit back a curse, suddenly remembering that the fact that it was big enough to let rhinos through meant it would be a pain to open. Nevertheless, she jumped up, grabbed the knob, braced one leg against the door with the other on the frame, twisted her arms, and let out a grunt of triumph when the door opened. She and the raccoon wasted no time fleeing through it when she was back on the ground.

However, the sound of the door opening alerted the rhinos to their escape; Judy heard them cry out in surprise and anger. Pushing the raccoon in front of her, she muttered, "Go, go, go, go, _go_."

As the raccoon disappeared into the stunned crowd of bar patrons, Judy whipped around just as the rhinos burst through the doorframe. Their eyes were red and watery, but they had no problem spotting her, which immediately provoked them to snarl.

Turning back to the rest of the bar, Judy quickly sorted through her options. She briefly considered jumping from table to table before realizing that it would make her too easy a target. It seemed, then, that the best thing to do would be to flop to the ground and begin crawling under the tables. It would be much harder for the rhinos to get down to her level, especially with all the other mammals around.

 _Other mammals._

Inwardly groaning, she realized that she couldn't guarantee anyone's safety if she drew the rhinos out much farther. Heart pounding, she flicked her gaze around, rapidly formulating a really stupid plan.

Just as the mouths of several bar customers were falling open in shock and fear with the steady approach of two irate rhinos, Judy dashed toward the middle of the room, where someone had hung some triangular local sports team flags from a rope strung between two walls. The customers were started to move out of the way of the rhinos as they stomped toward her, and she was relieved that they weren't attacking anyone. Still running, she slipped another smoke pellet out of her belt, pausing long enough to make sure they would see it. Then she leaped up, pushed her feet against the rope, tried not to panic as she felt it give a little, then sprung forward toward the rhinos. As she drew her arm back to act as though she were about to throw the pellet, she grinned to see that she got the reaction she wanted; Joe—who was in front of his companion—held up a hoof as though to shield himself.

Rather than giving him what he expected, though, Judy shoved her feet against his forearm so that it collided with his own face. The force sent him toppling backwards onto his partner, and they both crashed to the floor once again. All of the customers scrambled as far away from the action as possible, some of them screaming. Judy noticed a deer recording everything on his cell phone, but she didn't have time to wonder whether that was okay.

That was because only Joe was actually knocked out. The other rhino was trying to push him off, and Judy had to think of another plan.

Now that there was empty space, she sprinted toward the front of the bar, where she saw the corner of a hallway. It probably led to the bathrooms. She glanced over her shoulder long enough to see that the rhino could tell where she was heading. Satisfied that he would follow as soon as he was up, she skidded to a halt after rounding the corner. Then she whipped out her pocket knives, threw the blades into the opposite walls at about the height where she guessed the rhino's shins would be, and tied the two ends of one of her ropes to the handles of the knives. Finally, she squished herself against the wall and waited.

Sure enough, the rhino was demanding that everyone stay out of his way as he came bounding toward where he saw her go. The moment he turned the corner, however, Judy noticed a tiny figure leaving the women's bathroom through a rodent-sized door. She was an arctic shrew with dark brown hair piled high onto her head, ringlets framing her watery blue eyes and pleasant-looking face. Humming to herself, she appeared to be completely unaware of what was happening.

As the rhino's shins came into contact with the rope and his body began to fall forward, Judy felt like everything started moving in slow motion. The shrew looked up and shrieked. Judy lunged toward her, caught her in her arms, tucked, rolled, and bumped against the other wall just before the rhino would have crushed them both. His head slammed against the end of the hallway—Judy hadn't even realized he was that tall—and he went still.

Panting furiously, Judy kept her gaze trained on the rhino, making sure that he was truly unconscious, until the tiny voice of the shrew took her attention.

"You saved my life!" she exclaimed.

Somehow, Judy managed to smile at her, forgetting that her mask concealed it. "All in a night's work, miss." She paused. "I love your hair."

"Oh, thank you!" the shrew replied, bashfully twisting a tendril around her finger.

Judy gingerly set the shrew on the floor and stood. Only then did she notice the number of mammals who were staring at her silently from just a few feet away. The deer was still recording her on his cell phone.

Clearing her throat self-consciously, Judy unknotted the rope from the pocket knife handles, lifted the rhino's arms (which had thankfully splayed at his sides), set them atop the small of his back, and tied them together. As she did so, some of the mammals started asking her questions.

"Who are you?"

"What were they doing?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are _they_ okay?"

"What just happened?"

"Are you a _bunny_?"

At last, Judy straightened and faced the crowd and spoke in an alto voice with her farmer's accent. "I'm called Crossfire," she said. Remembering the negative reaction to her speech at Precinct One, she decided to shorten it. "I am the first line of defense, the buffer between good and evil. I am here to protect the world."

The face of the raccoon she rescued suddenly popped around the corner. Some of the customers shuffled back to allow him space to move forward. He simply gazed at her for several seconds before nodding.

"Thank you," he said almost reverently. "What you did was amazing!"

This was the first time that someone had shown any real gratitude or appreciation for what she did. Any tiredness that had been accumulating in Judy's little body over the past few minutes immediately dissipated, and she stood up a little straighter.

"It's my pleasure, truly," she answered. When everyone simply continued gawking, it occurred to her that she should leave before she did anything to embarrass herself. She swung her arms lamely at her sides, stepped tentatively toward the crowd, and said, "Well, you guys can call the ZPD to have them get these rhinos in a cell. As for me, I guess I should get going. More evil out there to stop, you know."

The mammals before her drew back a little, the raccoon joining them. Just as Judy rested her paw on the front door handle, she heard the deer with the cell phone suddenly shout, "Crossfire, wait!"

She swiveled her head to look at him. Not pausing his video, he pointed at Joe, who hadn't moved from his place in the middle of the bar. "Shouldn't you tie him up, too?"

Letting out a laugh that she hoped didn't sound as awkward as she felt, Judy nodded. "Right, yeah, I'll just—" she said as she scurried over to Joe and fished more rope out of her utility belt. With a frown, she realized that this was her last bit, and she would have to go buy more tomorrow.

She shook her head as she finished her work. As if she didn't already have enough to do.

* * *

 _Day 3: Wednesday, June 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:20 p.m._

* * *

If it hadn't been for the adrenaline still pumping through Judy's blood, she might have gone home to rest. If she had gone home to rest, she might have missed the hustle.

As it was, she was running away aimlessly down a high-end residential street just a few blocks away from The Ice Queen in a burst of nervous but excited energy. That's why she was there to see a weasel completely decked out in a familiar black outfit break a darkened Victorian-style mansion window by heaving a brick at it. He carefully climbed through it, followed by a similarly dressed red fox.

The sight brought Judy to an immediate halt. She could hardly believe that she was watching the same criminals from two nights ago boldly infiltrating yet another place, probably to steal something else. It was almost too good to be true.

 _Okay, that's a weird way to think about it,_ Judy admitted to herself without dwelling too much on it.

She tiptoed as quickly as she could to the broken window, pressed herself just under it, and stretched her ears to listen. Their voices sounded distant; they must have already wandered far into the mansion. Pursing her lips, Judy decided to jump through her second window of the night. Of course, she peeked over the ledge first to make sure that she wouldn't land on any glass. The fabric of her suit was too thin to protect her against that.

Once safely inside, Judy briefly surveyed her surroundings. All the lights were off, and there was no indication that anyone was home. The mansion was lavishly decorated and impeccably clean. Spotless wood floors were adorned with huge, soft carpets. Velvet and plush appeared to be common themes for the furniture, along with striking contradictions of dark colors against whites. A few photographs were set above a brick fireplace, showing a smiling family of reindeer—a husband and a wife with two young boys. Turning away from it, Judy followed the voices of the criminals upstairs.

Closer and closer to them she crept. They had gone inside what she guessed was the master bedroom. Although they seemed to be having a discussion, they didn't sound harried in any way, which struck her as odd. It seemed like they should want to get in and out as quickly as possible to reduce the chances of getting caught. Were they so certain that the residents wouldn't return for a long time?

The door was slightly ajar. She peeked around it to find them sitting casually at the edge of a huge bed, their legs dangling over a few duffel bags that they had left on the floor. One of the bags had something small, thin, and cream-colored hanging out of it. Squinting, Judy realized it was a pearl necklace.

She studied the walls. The Hustler had already marked the one opposite the bed with his signature—" _Courtesy of the Hustler_ "—and stick figure fox drawing, along with another sentence reading, " _Taking back what you took_."

So they had found something to steal and left their calling card. Why weren't they leaving, then?

At this point, she wasn't even making an effort to pay attention to their conversation. Instead, she gently pushed the door open a little wider and leaned against the frame with her arms crossed.

"What kind of thieves _are_ you?" she asked, taking pleasure in the way they both whipped around and stared at her. "It's like you're not even _trying_ to hide."

"That's 'cause we're not!" the weasel barked as he launched himself from the bed and pointed at her. "Get out of our business before we make ya regret it, bunny!"

"It's Crossfire," Judy replied tersely. "I'll give you one chance to leave without taking those duffel bags with you."

The weasel growled. "You can _take_ that chance and _shove it_ up your—"

"We're waiting for the cops, bunny," the red fox—the Hustler, Judy suddenly remembered—interjected with a sigh. "Breaking the window activated an alarm."

Blinking in surprise, Judy pushed herself off the doorframe and took a single hesitant step forward. "Crossfire," she corrected him, almost absentmindedly. "And why would you be doing that?"

The fox dropped lightly to the floor and stood next to the weasel, whose feet were spread wide as he clenched his fists. "Last time we met, you were spouting a lot of nonsense about protecting the world from evil," the fox drawled. Something about the way his voice sounded in the distorter still made Judy shiver—not unpleasantly, she realized. "I want to ask you something. Have you ever considered the idea that you might be protecting the wrong people?"

Judy let a pause linger between them before she responded. "What do you mean?"

"This is the home of Charlie Hoover, the CEO of the Z-Mart grocery chain," the fox continued as he began walking slowly toward her. "He's one of the many mammals in Zootopia who gets rich by propping himself up on the labors of the exploited. His employees are paid as little as legally possible, and there have been numerous complaints filed about how he overworks them. He consistently donates to interest groups that seek to keep wages low and break up workers' unions. He only bothers to try to improve working conditions when someone tries to sue his company, and even then, he usually gets the charges dropped with bribes." The fox motioned toward the duffel bags. "What we're stealing will be sold, and the money will be used to provide resources to underprivileged mammals. Tell me this—what do you think you're protecting by stopping us?"

Try as she might, Judy couldn't keep a hint of hesitation out of her voice when she answered. "It's not up to you to decide how to enact justice."

"Says the vigilante."

"That's different!"

"It always is," chuckled the fox.

He was drawing closer and closer. Why was Judy's heart hammering like this? Was it fear? Anticipation?

"We want the cops to see us doing this so that they can get the message that we'll fight against the tyranny that they defend," the fox continued. "That's why we're waiting."

"You're telling me everything," Judy breathed. "Why are you telling me everything?"

The fox shrugged. "You say you want to help those who struggle. I just wanted to see if it was true."

He was standing right in front of her now. She tried to see his eyes through the goggles, but they were too shaded. Nevertheless, they seemed to hold her gaze firmly.

"I do want to help," she nearly whispered.

It didn't occur to Judy to try to keep track of how much time passed as they stared at each other. Seconds? Minutes?

"I don't know if I believe you," the fox murmured. "But the cops won't like seeing you here any more than they'll like seeing us, so you'd better leave before they get here. Anyway, I'm sure that there's a toy store somewhere that's missing its token small-mammal action figure, so why don't you go back to your box?"

"Your concern is touching," Judy said quietly but acerbically. "But I can handle myself. And I still have a job to do."

"Come on, little bunny. There's no shame in calling it quits."

"Yes, there is."

Was the fox smiling now? She couldn't tell for sure.

But it didn't matter. They both became aware of sirens surrounding the mansion. Before Judy could blink, the fox grabbed her wrist and clicked something around it. Then he yanked her forward and clicked something else against his own wrist. Gasping in indignation, she found herself pawcuffed to him.

She turned a ferocious glare to the fox. "You _jerk_!"

"Your insults are truly groundbreaking, bunny," he said. Then he dragged her closer to the window, where the weasel joined him on his other side. They slipped their pistols from their holsters as they waited for the police to find them upstairs. Judy could only guess that they planned to stay just long enough to be seen, maybe make a short, nauseating speech, and then escape.

With her free paw, she rummaged quickly around her utility belt. She pulled out two tranquilizers darts and frowned at them before reaching behind the fox to stab one into the weasel's arm and then pressing the other against the fox's neck. He stiffened as the weasel collapsed.

"Let me go, or you pass out right here," Judy whispered through gritted teeth.

"Tranq me, and they take you, too," the fox reminded her.

"Maybe, but I like my odds better than yours. It's called a hustle," she hissed, hoping he could see her glare at him through her mask, " _sweetheart_."

Shaking his head with a sigh, the fox pulled a key from his belt and unlocked the cuffs. The moment she stepped away, however, she found him pointing his pistol at her gut. She froze, a gasp caught in her throat.

"Don't try to capture me or fight me," he said in a low, even voice, "or I _will_ shoot you."

To Judy's own surprise, her memory of their previous fight came to her mind. She relaxed.

"No, you won't," she said, her chin rising. "You had that chance already."

The fox said nothing, although he slowly lowered his pistol. Then they both seemed to remember something at the same time and glanced toward the foot of the bed. They each made a desperate dive for the duffel bags just as the officers burst into the bedroom, brandishing their tranq guns as they shouted, "ZPD! FREEZE!"

Judy could only imagine what it must have looked like as she wrestled with the fox for the bags. To her dismay, her tranquilizer dart had been knocked out of her reach. She heard one of the officers say that he couldn't get a clear shot of either of them, and she was grateful for that, but she knew that she needed to end this scuffle as quickly as possible before her luck changed.

Which was happening soon, because one of them started moving closer. The closer they got, the easier it would be to just shoot point-blank.

After kneeing the fox in his gut, Judy twisted around to grab another smoke pellet from her belt, throwing it immediately on the ground. To her relief, the smoke rose and swirled around the room quickly, sending everyone into coughing fits while obscuring their vision. By this time, though, she proved that she had learned her lesson, having sucked in a breath to hold before releasing the pellet. _Dang, these things are handy._

She scrambled to her feet, snatched up the bags, and ran to the window. Although she knew that she was on the second floor, she decided to take a leap of faith—and landed on something hard and metal.

Shocked, she looked down and found herself standing on top of a van. A masked fennec—the same one from two nights ago, Judy assumed—craned his head out of the driver's side window to gawk at her.

"S-Sorry," Judy stammered before she could remind herself that heroes don't apologize to criminals. Then she jumped down, heaving the duffel bags with her, and rushed toward the front of the mansion. After throwing them at the feet of a couple of officers who were stationed outside the front door, tranq guns drawn and ready, she sprinted away, ignoring their commands to stop.

Once she was hidden in some bushes across the street and felt satisfied that no one had seen where she ended up, she peeked through the leaves. The fennec was throwing something through the window of the master bedroom. Whatever it was, it provoked frantic shouting from the officers inside. A few seconds later, she heard a small explosion, which was followed by smoke meandering out of the window. The red fox—clutching the weasel in the crook of his arm—jumped out soon afterward, trailed by tranq darts that narrowly missed him. He dropped onto the roof of the van and then through the sun roof as the fennec gunned the engine and screeched away.

Judy watched them take a corner at a dangerous speed before releasing an exhausted breath. Although she carefully kept her ears pricked for any sign that an officer was coming her way, she allowed herself a moment to rest and reflect.

The fox's words went around her mind like a carousel.

 _What am I protecting?_

After a moment, she allowed herself a small snort. "Not lowlife thieves," she softly answered herself. "Mammals like that CEO will be brought to justice in other ways."

She nodded at her own inner dialogue. It was sensible. It was good.

Still…

With a sigh, she hugged her knees and set her forehead on top of them.

Whatever. She would just go home and see Nick.

Now _that_ brought a smile to her face.

No time to enjoy it, though. She heard an officer tell another officer to go look for her across the street.

Crouching, she left her hiding spot as discreetly as possible, making good use of the darkness. Once she reached the nearest alleyway, she broke into a sprint, trying not to panic about the possibility of being followed. Of course, she could always use another smoke pellet to throw them off.

But she was running low on them now. She had used _three_ in one night.

Now she had to go out and buy more rope _and_ more pellets.

 _Making the world a better place is surprisingly expensive_ , she thought as she shook her head and ran through the shadows.

* * *

 _Day 3: Wednesday, June 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:59 p.m._

* * *

The van's back door slammed open. Into it stomped Finnick and Duke, Nick trailing behind them with his paws in his pockets and a glare in his eyes.

"We got to do somethin' 'bout that bunny!" Finnick yelled as he snatched a beer can out of his cooler and shoved the lid closed. "If she keeps messin' with our hustles, she's goin' to get us all in prison or _killed_ , either by the blues or by the Den!"

"I think this is the one of those times when it's kill or be killed, eh, guys?" Duke suggested as he grabbed his own beer can and settled onto the floor, glaring at the space before him as though the bunny herself were there. He still looked a bit groggy from the effects of the tranquilizer.

Nick frowned deeply at both of them. "Big said we should bring her to him. Besides, you know we don't—"

"We know _you_ don't," Finnick interrupted. "Not all of us live in your pipe dream." His expression softened slightly as Nick cast him a betrayed look. "It's a nice idea, Nick, but it may not always be possible to avoid a little bloodshed."

Taking a few moments to mull it over, Nick shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not. Regardless, I _really_ don't think we're that desperate yet. She's a pain in our necks and needs to be stopped, yeah, but she hasn't done anything to deserve being killed. Besides, like I said, it's supposed to be Big's decision."

"Figures that ya'd only care about Big's instructions when ya don't wanna get your own paws dirty," Duke grumbled as he took a sip.

The fur on Nick's neck prickled. "And it figures _you_ would want to _ignore_ his instructions when you have to deal with a minor annoyance."

" _Minor annoyance_ , Wilde?!" Finnick exclaimed, a few drops of beer sloshing out of his can from the force of his abrupt lunge forward. The use of his last name let Nick know that his friend's anger was starting to peak. "She just _ruined_ an important hustle, we're already on Big's last nerve, and our operation is _delayed_! There's nothin' _minor_ 'bout her!"

Nick raised his paws placatingly. "Okay, poor choice of words. I get that she presents a serious problem. But we don't need to kill her."

The fennec set his can on top of the cooler and crossed his arms. "What do _you_ suggest, then?" he snarled.

As soon as Nick opened his mouth, his pocket began vibrating. He retrieved his phone from it and bit back a sigh when he saw that it was Big himself calling.

He put the call on speaker. "Explain," Big said after moment, his tone soaked with strained patience.

Squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, Nick answered, "The hustle was…" He sighed. "It was interrupted by Crossfire."

"The bunny vigilante?"

"Yes."

For a few beats, the only sound on the other line was Big's cuffs rustling against his fur as he scratched his chin.

"I sense a pattern forming, and we cannot allow it," he finally droned thoughtfully. "Next time you see her, you have my permission to kill her."

Nick's eyes quickly widened as he watched his friends' reactions. Finnick's expression seemed remorseful but nevertheless hardened, and Duke simply nodded grimly to no one in particular. Swallowing back a betrayed huff, Nick reminded himself that he shouldn't be surprised about being alone in his opinion. No one else in the Den of Thieves had ever taken it seriously.

Still…

"Sir, we _don't_ need to kill her," he said firmly, clutching the phone tightly. "And I won't do it."

"Nicky, it's for the greater good," Big responded, almost with the tone of a parent telling a toddler that eating their vegetables would make them grow tall and strong. "If she keeps disrupting—"

" _What_ greater good?" Nick blurted, his lip curling. "I joined the Den of Thieves because I thought it was committed to actively making a difference in the lives of marginalized predators, but all we do is make 'statements' and take no action! What exactly is she hindering? Your insistence that we justify the stereotypes against us?!"

Big sighed indulgently. "All right, Nicky, I'll humor you. What do _you_ suggest we do?"

"I've _made_ suggestions!" Nick exclaimed, his fangs peeking out from his lips now. He whirled away from Finnick and Duke so that he wouldn't have to look at their frustrated expressions. "I've suggested campaigning, fundraisers, charities, rallies—I've even suggested a simple _theme park_! More recently, I've suggested taking action where the officials can't or won't, like with finding those missing—"

"You know none of those things really work in any meaningful or lasting way, Nicky," Big interjected. "That's why you stopped participating in those lukewarm advocacy groups and joined the Den of Thieves."

Nick inhaled sharply through his nose. In the pause that followed, Big chuckled.

"As always, your idealism blinds you to reality," he said. "We don't currently have the power to actually defeat or even sway our government or our society. But we do have the power to punish it. That's what we do in the Den of Thieves." He let that settle in Nick's mind for a moment before continuing. "You're a fox, Nicky. You'll always be a fox. The world has already decided what that means, and we are still too small to change it." His next words were delivered with an audible snarl. "So embrace it, and then let them pay for it."

The words crept darkly into Nick's chest and turned his blood to icy rivers.

While he was unable to formulate a response, Big hummed contemplatively and then spoke again. "The bunny—Crossfire or whatever—directly opposes our purpose and poses a danger to us. She needs to die."

That snapped Nick back to attention. He shook his head vigorously. "No. It's not necessary. There's another way."

"Nicky—"

"I'll stop her myself, I _swear_ to you," Nick was nearly begging. Nearly. "Give me a chance to prove that we can be different, Big. Please."

Big said nothing at first. As he waited with clenched fists, Nick turned slowly to see Finnick's face stuck somewhere between a glower and a look of pity, while Duke merely appeared exasperated and bored as he slurped at his beer. Nick's ears twitched when Big answered.

"I'll give you forty-eight hours," he rumbled. "That's _two days_ to catch this bunny and persuade her to desist her meddling. If you fail, you will never… _suggest_ anything ever again. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," Nick promised with a fervent nod, ignoring the way Finnick shut his eyes and slowly shook his head. "I won't let you down."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" Big replied dryly. "In the meantime, I need to find another means of income with which to restock our armory, now that we don't have Charlie Hoover's jewelry, so you'll excuse me."

With that, he terminated the call.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nick stuffed the phone back into his pocket. For a full minute, no one said a word.

Finally, Nick reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he moved toward his duffel bag in the corner by the door. The silence persisted as he changed from his hustling outfit to his typical Hawaiian shit, tie, and slacks. Then he opened the van's rear door and mumbled, "Let's—uh, let's work on the presentation another time. Catch you later, guys."

* * *

 _Day 3: Wednesday, June 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:33 p.m._

* * *

The door swung open with a squeak, but it was barely audible over the sound of something sizzling on the stove. As he stepped into the apartment, Nick lifted his nose to sniff the ear. Vegetables. So many vegetables. And… turkey bacon?

He closed the door softly behind him and nearly dropped his duffel bag by the wall but quickly thought better of it. Walking around the corner separating the kitchen from the living room, he raised his eyebrows to see Judy pouring something into a frying pan, her focus so absolute that she didn't seem to notice he was there. He took advantage of the opportunity to simply watch her with his body leaning against the wall and his arms folded over his chest. One quick glance at the contents of the pan told him that she was making stir fry and throwing bacon into it. His stomach whined with anticipation.

Carefully, Judy removed a strip of turkey bacon from its package— _She's cooking for me!_ Nick realized with a warm smirk—and hesitated for a moment before simply flicking into the pan. She immediately leaped backward when drops of oil jumped out of it.

"Oh, sweet cheese and crackers!" she gasped.

At that, Nick couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest. He attempted to conceal his grin when Judy spun around to face him with wide eyes. Wide, violet eyes that quickly relaxed into a delighted expression that seemed to melt away the last of the cold that had pervaded Nick's blood after his conversation with Big.

"You're home!" Judy exclaimed. She surprised him by wrapping him in a hug that ended in the same second that it took for his heart to skip a beat.

"So are you, apparently. And…" Nick took a moment to chortle again. "Sweet cheese and crackers?"

The blush that suddenly lit up her face was darling—as was the way she scrunched her nose at him. "You're awfully snarky for someone who's getting an effort-free dinner tonight."

"It's really late for dinner. How do you know I haven't already eaten?"

"O-Oh," Judy said hesitantly. "I didn't think about that. I was just hungry, so I figured I'd make something for both of us while I was at it." It was adorable, the way her eyes flicked awkwardly between him and the pan as she stirred it. "So… Do you not want to…"

Nick let her sweat for another second before chuckling and nodding graciously. "I'm actually starving, so thanks for thinking of me."

Her sweet grin of relief _almost_ made Nick feel bad for teasing her.

"It's not too late for me to throw it on the floor, you know," Judy warned him without a hint of malice in her tone.

"I'm calling your bluff on that one, Carrots. No self-respecting farmer from Bunnyburrow is going to waste vegetables like that."

She huffed but didn't deny it.

Nick's grin grew before a thought occurred to him, and then it dimmed slightly. "Have you already eaten?"

"Oh, I'll be eating with you," Judy informed him.

Furrowing his brows, Nick nodded toward the pan. "But there's bacon in there. You don't plan on eating that, do you?"

She answered him as she moved back toward it. "Well, no, but I—"

A piece of bacon chose that moment to pop, sending a large splash of oil flying toward Judy's arm. This time, her gasp was deeper and more pained as she clasped her opposite paw over the spot where the oil hit her. Nick scurried to her side and held her forearm in his paws.

"Are you okay, Carrots?" he asked as he examined it for burns, gently pushing her fur this way and that. It didn't seem to have left a mark, but it slowly dawned on him that he was touching Judy in a rather familiar way.

Glancing up at her, he gulped when he found himself staring right into her eyes as they intently studied his face. He immediately returned his attention to her arm and pretended to check it for a moment longer before delicately pushing it toward her. "You're fine," he managed to say around the lump in his throat.

 _Cool it, Wilde_ , he chastised himself. _No need to get so worked up over a forearm. It's a freaking_ forearm. _Don't feed the crush._

As he rubbed the back of his neck and sauntered as casually as possible toward the living room, he heard Judy pipe up behind him.

"To answer your question, I already set aside some for myself before I added the bacon," she said. "Everything will be ready in a minute."

"You know," Nick began as he lowered himself into a chair at the small table just outside the kitchen, "you don't need to cook meat just for me."

"It's no big deal," Judy replied a bit absentmindedly; once again, she was concentrating on her task. "It's the least I can do for you after letting me move in, and anyway, I like to learn new things."

"The least you can do?" Nick repeated. "Need I remind you that you got me a job?"

"I got you a trial run," Judy corrected him as she switched off the stove. "You got _yourself_ a job."

She set a plate of the bacon stir fry in front of Nick and a plate of the vegetarian version before the chair adjacent to his. After bringing over glasses of water and forks as well, she settled herself into her seat. "So," she chirped, "how was your evening?"

Nick shrugged. "Uneventful," he lied with the help of the bacon chunks that he shoved into his muzzle.

"Hm. So was mine. What did you do?"

"Hung out with some friends."

"Sounds fun."

Suppressing a sigh, Nick forced himself to nod. "Yeah, it's always a good time with those guys."

"What are they like?" Judy inquired. "I'd love to meet them!"

A frown twitched at the corners of Nick's mouth before he remembered to keep his expression neutral. "Sure, maybe someday." After a moment, he added, "I don't know if they're really your cup of tea, though."

"Oh?" Judy said, scrunching her nose teasingly. "How do you know what kind of tea I like?"

Nick smirked back. "Well, I doubt it would be surly with a healthy dose of cynicism mixed with a dash of unproductively channeled frustration, but I've been known to be wrong on occasion."

The fork in Judy's paw slowed to stop in front of her open mouth. "Um… Oh." She hesitated as she tried to figure out what to say next, lowering the fork to rest on her plate. "So… Why—"

"Don't worry about it, Fluff," Nick shook his head dismissively and lifted more food to his mouth. "They're just not pleasant guys. That's all."

"Well…" Judy said quietly. "So why do _you_ hang out with them?"

Watching her thoughtfully as he chewed, Nick let a few seconds pass before he replied. "Do you know how few mammals want to be friends with a fox?" When her only response was to look at him with a combination of surprise and sadness, he continued. "I don't really have too many options."

A smile sprouted on Judy's muzzle. "If that's really what you think, then maybe you need to broaden your horizons."

"Indeed," Nick chuckled. "Maybe I should start looking into carrot farms. I've heard carrot-farming bunnies make _great_ friends for foxes."

"Oh, that's too bad, then," Judy said primly as she took a sip of water. "I'm no carrot-farming bunny. I'm a future police officer."

Nick grinned. "Well, I guess I could consider that, too."

For a moment, Judy eyed him skeptically. "What, no smart remarks this time about how I can't do it?"

With a one-shouldered shrug, Nick picked up his glass. "Would it make a difference to you if I did?"

"Nope!"

"So why waste the energy?" Nick said, expelling a satisfied breath after gulping down half his water. "I've had enough of _that_ for one evening."

That made Judy blink at him. "What do you mean?"

As Nick slowly inhaled, he entertained the idea of opening up to this bunny. In the second it took for him to blow it all out, he perished he thought.

"Sorry, Carrots, but as riveting as my life is, you'll just have to find some other way to entertain yourself," he quipped as he stood and began walking his glass and empty plate to the sink.

After a moment, Judy swiveled in her chair to look at him. "Well, would you like to have another movie night?"

Nick downed a little more water before answering, a thought occurring to him. "You really want to spend your time with a fox? Don't _you_ have any friends to hang out with?"

Judy glanced briefly at the floor before bringing her eyes back up to him, a tiny, knowing smile adorning her lovely face. "Do you know how few mammals want to be friends with a bunny who dreams of being a police officer?"

Several seconds of silence passed before Nick realized he was staring at her with his lips slightly parted. He pressed them together for a moment. "That can't be true."

"Tell that to my parents and everybody in Bunnyburrow who got sick of telling me that there's never been a bunny cop and never would be," Judy said with forced casualness, turning back to her food only to scrape at it with her fork. Then she shook her head and brought some of it to her mouth with a renewed vigor. "But like you said, it doesn't matter what anyone else says. I decided I'm going to do it, so I will."

Suddenly feeling uncharacteristically guilty about voicing his doubt, Nick decided on a slightly different topic. "Zootopia isn't anything like Bunnyburrow. I'm sure you can make friends here."

"I'm sure I can, but for now, I'm happy to spend time with the one I have," said Judy, flashing him a quick grin before shoveling her last bite of stir fry into her mouth.

Nick rolled his eyes but knew he was smirking back. "All right, Fluff, you win. We'll have a movie night. What are you in the mood for?"

As soon as he agreed, Judy seemed to relax. He hadn't even noticed that she was tense, but before he could ask about it, she answered his question.

"Nothing too exciting this time," she said, yawning. "I'm planning on just falling asleep on the couch right afterward. I'm exhausted."

Her admission made Nick pause in surprise. "That's right. You still don't have a bed, do you?"

Judy shrugged as she stood up, her dirty dishes in her paws. "I haven't really had time to get one."

"We're going to fix that tomorrow."

With a blink, Judy smiled softly at him. "We?"

Nick smiled back. "We."

 _You're the worst crusher of crushes who ever lived, Nick Wilde_ , he remonstrated himself.

And at that moment, he didn't care.

* * *

 **Random A/N: Turkey bacon is actually really good.**

 **Also, The StarsShadow15 and I think that everyone should start saying "pugnaciously" more often.**

 **Yet again, I must thank The StarsShadow15 and Camoss for their help and encouragement, and I must also insist that you check them out if you haven't already. They're great. I kinda like 'em a lot. :)**

 **Stay tuned! Next week, things get even** _ **more**_ **complicated.**


	5. Misunderstanding All You See

**Chapter 5—Misunderstanding All You See**

 **A/N: Things are gettin' fuuuuuun!**

 **I don't think I have anything interesting to say right now.**

 **Thanks for reading! Remember, song lyrics are on AO3.**

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:32 a.m._

* * *

" _I am the first line of defense, the buffer between good and evil. I am here to protect the world._ "

Dawn slowly tore a bite from her cream-filled maple bar with her teeth, eyes locked on the computer screen in her office. Last night, some deer had uploaded a video of a bunny vigilante in Zootopia onto Ewetube, and it had already attracted several thousand views. She had watched it a dozen times since discovering it a couple hours ago, in awe of the bunny's maneuvers and ability to think on her feet. _Two rhinos_ had fallen to her cleverness and athleticism within minutes of each other. It seemed impossible, but there it was, on video.

She was perfect.

At length, Dawn paused the video, then reached to the phone—scowling at the mug that had "World's Best Assistant Mayor" scribbled on it—and dialed Bogo's number. He answered shortly.

"Chief Bogo," was all he said in greeting, but the "hurry up and tell me what you want" part was implied by his tone.

"Hey, Bogo, it's me, Assistant Mayor Bellwether!" Dawn greeted him, letting obnoxious cheer ooze from her voice. "How are you doing this lovely morning?"

"Just dandy," Bogo replied with a cringingly false sincerity. Not for the first time, Dawn wondered if he really thought he was fooling anyone when he did that. "And yourself?"

"Oh, I'm finer than frog hair split nine ways, thanks for asking!" she squeaked jovially. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on how the search for the missing mammals is going. I told you that was priority number one, right?"

Dawn could just about hear the chief suppress a sigh before he answered. "Yes, of course. I assure you that we're doing everything we can, but ever since their case files were stolen, it's been slow going."

Frowning, Dawn forced herself to give him what she hoped sounded like a sympathetic chuckle instead of the volcanic rumble of rage that she wanted to let roll from her chest. "Right, right, I heard about that. Seems the Hustler and his gang have been getting bolder recently. I hope you can get them behind bars soon."

Bogo's response was just a grunt.

"Anyway," Dawn shrugged to herself, ready to address the real reason why she called, "have you seen the video that's started going viral on Ewetube? The one with the bunny vigilante named Crossfire?"

"It was brought to my attention, yes," Bogo admitted, tone wary.

"Well, I think she needs to be priority number _two_ ," Dawn went on. "I mean, you know how even the most well-meaning vigilante can really do more to harm than help the work that you and your fine officers do. Not to mention this is a _bunny_. She got lucky in this video, but she could seriously hurt herself and other mammals! _And_ she's gaining popularity quickly. Pretty soon, _everybody_ might think they can take the law into their own paws. We can't have that, can we?"

There was a pause before Bogo responded. "I understand that she's a concern. My officers have actually encountered her once before. But I'm not sure she qualifies as a priority almost on par with finding fourteen missing predators."

"Trust me, Bogo," Dawn insisted. "I have a feeling about this one." That was actually true. "Put some focus into bringing her into custody as soon as possible. Maybe even today. The sooner, the better, really."

"Of course, Assistant Mayor Bellwether," the buffalo grudgingly agreed. "I'll look into it."

"I know you can do it, Chief!" Dawn sang into the phone. "You're the best!"

He grumbled a vague farewell and hung up.

Dawn carefully set her own phone back on its receiver and sat back, clapping her hooves together and turning her gaze back to the paused image of Crossfire striking a strong, confident stance in front of a fallen rhino.

Yes. Perfect.

 _Creative, spunky, idealistic, and deceptively dangerous,_ Dawn thought to herself, a grin wandering lazily up her face. _Reminds me so much of myself._

After a minute, she swallowed the last bit of her maple bar, stood, and swung her purse over her shoulder. Just before leaving the office, she dug around in one of her filing cabinets and unearthed a small police scanner, stuffing it into the bottom of her purse. Best keep it as close as possible today.

She wouldn't want to miss any of the action.

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:44 p.m._

* * *

"Hey, Slick," Judy said, tapping the service counter to draw Nick's attention away from the grill. "Table eight wants yet _another_ bowl of fried cicadas. Could you grab some, please?"

"Crunchy peanut butter and jelly!" Nick responded in a comically high-pitched voice as he opened a cupboard and grabbed a scoop. " _More_ fried cicadas?"

Judy rolled her eyes as he shot her an immensely self-satisfied smirk. Ever since hearing her say "sweet cheese and crackers" last night, he hadn't missed a single opportunity to come up with a different variation of the phrase whenever she asked for something. They'd included such ideas as "fried potatoes and gravy," "frosted cupcakes and sprinkles," "sweet huckleberries and peaches," and a couple others that she couldn't remember. If it wouldn't just encourage him, she'd probably laugh. Of course, her exasperated reactions didn't seem to _dis_ courage him, so perhaps she may as well give in to the humor.

With that, she allowed a small giggle to burst from between her lips before she quickly pressed them back together. Casting Nick a sidelong glance, she found him grinning from ear to ear at her, apparently pleased, and she couldn't help returning it.

"Here you go, Carrots," Nick said, handing her a bowl of the cicadas with a roguish wink.

She took the bowl and whirled around just before a tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks. They'd had a bit of a rocky start, but she had to admit that she was liking him more and more all the time.

The silly smile that had bloomed on her face slowly wilted when she encountered the glower of the caracal at table eight. She set the bowl next to his plate of spring vegetables and bug steak while plastering a new cheerful smile onto her face. "Anything else you need?" she asked as she folded her paws demurely in front of her.

"You plan on flirting with the fox cook again if there is?" the caracal sneered as he popped a cicada into his mouth.

Judy sucked in a breath and stood there dumbly for a moment. Her mouth hung soundlessly open. When the caracal arched an irritated eyebrow at her, she cleared her throat.

"Just—just let me know, then," she said as with as jovial a tone as she could muster. She pivoted and started walking quickly to the entrance, where she saw a middle-aged female otter pad her way inside. As she passed the service counter, she risked a quick peek at Nick, whose ears were angled slightly backward despite the determinedly neutral expression on his face. He didn't look at her, and she suppressed a sigh, guessing that he had heard the caracal, too.

"Welcome!" she said to the otter in a chipper tone. She hoped the customer wouldn't notice how forced it felt. "Is it just you today, ma'am?"

For some reason, the question made the otter frown sadly and look away. Judy blinked and studied her for a moment. It seemed as though she had slept in the pink sweater and floral-patterned purple dress that she was wearing, if the wrinkles were any indication, and there were bags hanging under her lovely olive-green eyes.

"Are you all right?" Judy queried, instinctively reaching out to touch the otter's shoulder before realizing that it might be rude.

Hurriedly, the otter nodded and replied, "Yes, it's just me."

After showing her to a booth and finding her a menu, Judy glanced over her shoulder at Nick. Sure enough, he was watching. They exchanged concerned looks before Nick had to turn his attention to stirring something on the grill.

Judy looked back at the otter and nodded solemnly. "I'll be back in a little while to take your order, okay?"

In response, the otter only smiled weakly, her gaze never leaving the menu—although she didn't quite seem to see it, either. Pursing her lips, Judy walked away to tend to other customers.

Only a few minutes later, she returned to the otter, who was now resting her cheek on her paw and staring into the space before her, her eyes blank accept for the moisture gathered around the rims. The sight of it squeezed Judy's heart.

"Um, ma'am?" she said softly, and the otter straightened to look at her. "Are you ready to order?"

The otter smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I haven't figured out what I want yet. I'm so distracted lately."

She fell quiet and looked away. Judy peered around the diner and, seeing no one in immediate need of her attention, gently set a nearby chair next to the otter and sat down on it.

"May I ask your name?" she asked.

With wide, surprised eyes, the otter answered, "Uh—uh, yes. It's Livia. Livia Otterton."

Judy offered her a small, reassuring smile. "Is there something you'd like to talk about, Ms. Otterton?"

At last, the tears left Ms. Otterton's eyes to cascade down her cheeks. She sniffed and tried to wipe them away as she answered with a choked voice. "I-I'm sorry, it's just—it's my husband. He's been missing for ten days, and the police still have no leads for him." She let out a single sob and covered her muzzle with a paw for a moment before continuing. "It's so unlike him to just disappear. I'm starting to lose hope that he'll ever come back."

The pain defining the otter's features crushed Judy's breath. Tentatively, she reached out to Mrs. Otterton's arm and rested it there. "I'm _so_ sorry to hear about that." Her brows curved upward as she watched the otter try to hold in her emotions. "Maybe I've seen him. Do you have a picture?"

Nodding, Mrs. Otterton twisted to her other side to rummage through her purse. She produced a photograph of herself with her husband and children. "His name is Emmitt Otterton. We have two children together. We—we miss him so much."

As she finally allowed herself to cry, Judy pulled her forward into a compassionate hug, patting her back soothingly. Some of the other customers and servers were starting to give them odd looks, but Judy ignored them.

About a minute passed before Mrs. Otterton pushed herself away and rubbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm causing such a scene."

"Oh, no, please don't be sorry," Judy quickly assured her. "I can't even imagine what you're going through right now." She studied the photograph that the otter still held. After hesitating only for a moment, she asked, "May I keep that picture with me? That way, I can remember what he looks like and let you know if I see any sign of him."

Mrs. Otterton granted her a grateful smile. "That's so sweet of you." For a moment, she gazed affectionately at the photograph before extending it toward Judy. "Please keep it. I have more pictures at home, and if there's any chance at all that giving you this one will bring him back to me, I'll gladly take it."

Judy accepted the picture and pressed it against her chest, looking Mrs. Otterton in the eyes. "Thank you. I promise I'll do whatever I can." She stood and placed the chair back where it belonged. "In the meantime, may I put in an order for you?"

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Otterton replied, quickly glancing over the menu again. "I'll, uh, take the vegetable omelet, please."

"Of course," Judy said, taking the menu back after jotting down the order. Then she leaned forward and whispered, "And don't worry about paying. This one's on me, okay?"

Eyes widening, Mrs. Otterton exclaimed, "Oh, no, that's not necessary! Really, it isn't—"

"Please, Mrs. Otterton, I insist," Judy interjected as she held up a paw placatingly. "You just sit tight." She jerked a thumb behind her. "And I'll be getting the best cook in the diner to whip this up for you."

To emphasize her point, she grinned over her shoulder at Nick, who—as predicted—was observing their conversation. He winked back at them both as he flipped a pancake.

"Thank you," Mrs. Otterton said quietly, an abashed smile crossing her face.

With a jolly nod, Judy turned smartly on her heel and headed toward Nick. Rather than leaving the order slip on the service counter, she extended it directly toward him. With a warm smirk, he took it and waved it briefly at Mrs. Otterton to show that he had received it and would immediately begin working on it.

Expelling a satisfied sigh, Judy looked over the dining area and noted that a few tables needed more napkins. She began moving toward the supplies closet at the other end of the building, which brought her past table eight. The sharp, snide voice of the caracal halted her immediately.

"If I cry over how long it's taken you to get back here," he said, "are you going to pay for my next bowl of fried cicadas?"

Judy's eyes bulged. Yet again, she found herself speechless in front of him.

" _Well_?" he snapped. "What's it take to get a bunny to do her job around here?"

Slowly drawing a breath, Judy took her time answering. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. Should I take that to mean that you'd like another bowl right now?"

"You have to ask?" the caracal scoffed as he took a sip of his coffee. "You bunnies really are good for only one thing," he mumbled with his lips on the rim of his mug. Then he pointedly swept his eyes up and down her figure. "And I think you know what that is."

At that, Judy's face exploded into a blush so furious that it took all of her concentration to get it under control, leaving no room in her mind to formulate a response. Normally, she would have a comeback. She would unleash her ire on him to ensure that he would feel the shame he deserved for decades. But all she did was stand there, shocked, trying to process that what just happened had really... _happened_.

Her legs moved rigidly and by instinct toward the service counter. Looking up, she noticed that Nick already had his gaze locked on her. His expression appeared passive at first glance, but she saw how far back against his head his ears were pinned, as well as the shockingly icy storm billowing behind his eyes.

"You don't have to take that kind of treatment," he said in a low voice meant only for her as he scraped some scrambled eggs onto a plate. Greg and Andy—each only a few feet away from him—glanced at him nervously, catching his tone but not his words. Judy supposed that neither of them had heard her exchange with the caracal. Nick continued. "We can get Yannis to kick him out."

"I'd rather not make a scene," Judy breathed, though her gut twisted almost violently at the thought of letting the caracal get away with it. She avoided Nick's eyes. "Can you just give me the cicadas, please?"

He didn't move for a moment. When Judy looked up at him again, he was still staring at her with that freezing anger. She felt herself shiver slightly, despite knowing it wasn't really directed at her.

At last, Nick reached into the cupboard where the fried cicadas were stored and scooped some into a bowl, but rather than letting her have it, he kept it close to him, scrutinizing it with his brows clashed together. Then he turned around, walked into the middle of the kitchen, held the bowl up near his muzzle, and sneezed. He sneezed again. And again. And again.

They weren't loud sneezes. Judy wasn't even sure that they were real. But they definitely looked messy.

Finally, he sauntered back toward the service counter to stand before Judy. She could see the telltale gleams of saliva and maybe just a _dash_ of mucus mixed in with the insects in the bowl.

"Well, sweet buttery butter and biscuits," Nick said, his voice as blithe and chilly as a midwinter breeze. He looked up at Judy with a mischievous smile and a positively _wicked_ glint in his glare. "Perhaps I should go see a doctor."

Judy found herself fighting back an answering grin as she met his gaze. An even more difficult battle was taking place in her chest, wherein burned a fire that urged her to leap over the service counter and nuzzle her face in his neck as deeply as it would go. Was it just her imagination, or was he getting handsomer by the day?

After a moment, she took in a long breath, lifted her chin with prim pride, and silently accepted the bowl, noticing how Nick shot warning looks at Greg and Andy when they each looked like they were about to say something. She marched back toward table eight and slid the bowl in front of the caracal. By then, the spit and snot had dried, and there was no sign whatsoever of the fox's sabotage.

"Sorry again for the wait, sir," Judy said with a coolness that he didn't seem to register. "The cook added some special new seasonings to make up for it."

Grinning, the caracal pulled the bowl closer to him and took a bite out of one of the cicadas. Judy could hear it crunching between his teeth as he spoke. "Now _that's_ the kind of service I'm talking about. But hey," he said, turning narrowed eyes on her, "did I hear _sneezing_ back there?"

"Oh, don't worry, sir," Judy said with a mirthless smile. "The cook is going to see a doctor."

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:18 p.m._

* * *

"Is this the way you like 'em, Carrots? Soft and squishy?"

"Yeah. There's pretty much nothing in the world that satisfies me more."

"That's what she said."

"Who?"

Nick barked a laugh as he settled next to Judy on the twin mattress, drawing wary glances from other customers at the department store where they'd stopped. He didn't care; he only had eyes for the little gray ball of fur huddled in the middle of the mattress with her eyes closed and a goofy, contented smile on her face. It was almost too adorable for Nick's will power to withstand.

"Have you never seen _The Office_ , Carrots?" he asked her.

"I've heard of it," she answered, briefly opening one eye to look at him quizzically before shutting it again.

"Well, I know what we're watching for our next movie night."

"But that's not technically a movie."

"We're making an exception."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"Our friendship isn't a democracy."

Judy laughed and propped herself up on her elbows, making Nick feel almost disappointed to have said something that would spoil the vision he was enjoying of her comfort. "What is it, then? Should I start calling you King Nick?"

"Does that make you my queen?" Nick leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows. Then he mentally delivered a roundhouse kick to his own face, especially when she paused and looked at him with surprise, her parted lips like magnets to his own. It was all he could do to keep his lazy smirk from collapsing into a ready pucker.

Worsening his crush while freaking her out at the same time—it was _not_ on the list of Nick's best moments.

 _Change the subject, change the subject, change the subject!_

He smoothly rose to his feet and pretended to be interested in surveying the store so that he didn't have to look at her anymore. "Well, you seem pretty enamored with this one. Want to get it delivered straight to the apartment?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I think this is what I want."

When he turned his head back to her, he had to beat back a blush upon seeing the warm, contemplative way she was watching him.

"Thanks again for what you did today, Nick," she smiled.

Subtly clearing his throat, Nick ripped his eyes away and shrugged. He knew what she meant. Fantasizing about all the different ways he'd wanted to claw that caracal had helped his shift fly by, but the important thing was simply supporting Judy through the ordeal. "Only wish I could've done more," he said honestly.

She sighed and hugged her knees. "Well, it wasn't the first time I've been stereotyped that way, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I'll have to learn to deal with it better than just freezing up like I did." A frown twisted across her muzzle. "You know, I could've handled it if he'd called me cute or underestimated me for my size or something like that, but making _those_ kinds of insinuations, that was…" She shook her head and shut her eyes for a moment. "That was different."

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Nick had sat back down on the edge of the mattress. He folded his arms to keep from laying a paw on her shoulder. "Well, there's something I learned as a fox that might help you as a bunny," he said. "It's my personal philosophy—never let them see that they get to you."

Judy quirked a brow at him. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that you shouldn't give anyone power over you," he said, training his gaze on the diamond patterns stitched into the mattress. "That way, they can't hurt you."

He fell into silence after that, and Judy let it rest between them for a while before she gently broke it.

"Has anyone ever hurt you, Nick?" she queried.

Barely managing to turn his sigh into a chuckle at the last second, he smirked confidently at her. "Not for a long time."

To his surprise, however, Judy fixed him with a puzzled yet sympathetic expression, as though she somehow knew that he'd just lied. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Suddenly, she rose to her knees and locked her arms around his neck, burying her nose into his fur there. Neither of them said a word; Nick was too busy trying to kickstart his heart, which had sputtered to a stop, and he had no idea what was going through Judy's mind.

Just as he was starting to melt into the pleasant sensation, a female voice cut sharply into the air between them.

"Look, bunny, if you're gonna make out with a fox, at least have the decency to do it where no else has to see you," it sniffed.

Nick and Judy broke away from each other abruptly, turning wide, bewildered eyes on the middle-aged lady hippo with nothing better to do than ruin the happiness of everyone around her as she waddled past. As she met Nick's stare, she clutched her purse tighter to her rotund figure, which was swaddled in the sort of dress worn by women who were always wanting to speak to a manager.

"Paws off, fox!" she snapped and kept walking.

So focused was Nick on schooling away the scowl he wanted to laser into her retreating backside that he didn't notice Judy's dropped jaw and clenched fists until she was already marching toward the offending mammal. He scrambled to reach for her, but she—being a bunny on a mission, of course—was too fast for him.

"Hey!" she yelled with surprising force for someone so fluffy. " _Hey_! You don't get to speak to him like that! _Hey_!"

The hippo narrowed her eyes at the bunny as though trying to decide if it be worth the effort to clean off her shoes if she stepped on her. "I can speak to anybody however I want."

Any second now, actual steam would start shooting out of Judy's ears, Nick was sure. He hurried forward as she pointed in his direction, though her attention remained on the hippo. "It was rude and uncalled for, and you owe him an apology!"

"It's okay, Carrots," Nick said as he grasped Judy's paw and tried to pull her away as inconspicuously as possible. "I'm sure she's busy trying to find a nice retail employee to complain about. We shouldn't keep her. Let's go buy your bed."

Judy resisted briefly, but when she saw the insistent look Nick was sending her, she relented. Throwing one last fierce glare at the hippo—who merely huffed and turned away—she allowed Nick to lead her by the paw toward the mattress section. She let out a single furious snort.

"You didn't deserve that, Nick," she said firmly.

"Thanks for saying so, Carrots. Really." Nick offered her a genuine smile over his shoulder. "Maybe if we just keep sticking up for each other like we have today, they'll leave us alone eventually."

Sighing and leaning her forehead against Nick's shoulder as they came to a stop in front of the mattress, Judy replied, "I'm sure you're right. For now, I just have to not let them see that they get to me."

"There you go, Fluff! You're learning," Nick cheered. He couldn't decide whether he was disappointed or relieved when Judy straightened.

"This is _exactly_ why I want to be a police officer, though!" Judy blurted as she swung her fists vehemently, clearly needing much more practice in not letting things get to her. "She would have respected me if I'd had a badge. She would have apologized to you."

"Not necessarily, Fluff," Nick smirked and patted her shoulder. "But if you really want to use your authority for something like that, maybe you _would_ make a good cop."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a pang of guilt for encouraging her to continue reaching for a dream that he honestly wasn't sure could ever be hers. Then Judy bestowed upon him a soft, sunny, and heart-wrenchingly grateful smile. Somehow, it made her even more radiant than usual, like he'd just watered a thirsty plant. He got so caught up in relishing it that he forgot all about being doubtful.

An image poked at his peripheral vision. The electronics section was situated just across from him, and he swiveled his head toward the wall of televisions for sale. Many of them were playing ZNN. At first, he wasn't sure what had drawn his attention, but it was soon obvious—a clip of a certain vigilante bunny. Through a shaky cell phone lens, she was shown outsmarting two rhinos in a crowded bar, bringing both of them down into states of consciousness without even suffering a scratch. A banner ran along the bottom of the screens, reading, " _VILIGANTE CALLED CROSSFIRE TAKES LAW INTO OWN PAWS. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION, ALERT ZPD IMMEDIATELY."_

After a moment, he realized that Judy was watching the screens, too. He couldn't quite read her expression, but it seemed to be locked somewhere between shock and fascination. Just when her gaze flickered toward his, he snapped his eyes back toward the televisions, keeping his face impeccably blank.

"Interesting, huh?" Judy said with a tiny chuckle. "A bunny vigilante. Who would have thought?"

Nick shrugged. "Let's just hope she doesn't get hurt."

It seemed that Judy had no response to that.

In only a few minutes, she had picked the frame and bedding set that she wanted to go with the mattress. As she and a cashier were setting up a time for everything to be delivered at their apartment, Nick's mind lingered on the memory of Crossfire barely dodging serious injury or worse at the hooves of two rhinos. No surprise that the ZPD was now asking for help capturing her. On top of all that, she was still unaware that even more sinister mammals were seeking her life.

He snuck a peek at his watch and nearly cursed out loud upon seeing that it was close to seven o'clock.

As much as he was enjoying spending time with Judy, there was another bunny he had only twenty-six more hours to find.

Tapping Judy lightly on the shoulder to grab her attention while the cashier was on the phone with a delivery mammal, Nick said, "Sorry, Carrots, I promised my friends I'd meet up with them again tonight."

"The surly-flavored tea friends?" she clarified with a half-lidded smirk.

Nick had almost forgotten about the way he had described them to her the other night. He chuckled. "Yeah, they're running low on sarcasm creamer, so I've got to go replenish their supplies."

"Better not keep them waiting, then," Judy grinned. "See you at home."

"See you there," Nick nodded with a single wave.

He shuffled out of the department store, paws stuffed in his pockets, and headed toward the space between it and the laundromat next door. The moment he was concealed in the shadows of the alleyway, he broke into a run. The sooner he grabbed his duffel bag and change into his hustling outfit, the sooner he could catch Crossfire, keep her inevitable death off his conscience, prove to Big that his ideas should be taken more seriously, _and_ get home to spend more time with Judy before bed.

Suddenly realizing that he was actually planning his evening around seeing his roommate again, Nick groaned to himself. It seemed that he was fighting a losing battle with this crush of his.

Fine, then. Maybe all he needed to do was make sure that she never became aware of it and that he never acted on it.

… Could he really live with that, though? If these feelings got any worse…

He shook his head. There would be time to worry about that later.

For now, there was an entirely different bunny he needed to lure out of hiding.

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:30 p.m._

* * *

"It's right up here!" Judy called over her shoulder at the lion lugging a huge box up the stairs of the apartment complex. Well, the box was huge by _her_ standards, but it actually wasn't too bad for the lion. Fortunately for him, she didn't need a large bed frame.

She slowed to a stop in front of the apartment she shared with Nick and glanced at the lion to verify that he'd noticed and wouldn't run into her. On her wrist, she carried a plastic bag with her new bedding, which she shifted to the crook of her arm in order to dig around her purse for her keys. Soon, she had unlocked the door and stood aside to let the lion through.

Once they were both inside, he set the box down in the middle of the living room, panting slightly, and peered around. "So where do you want it?" he queried.

"Oh, my bedroom is the one on the left," Judy answered, pointing toward the small hallway behind the kitchen. The lion nodded and swept the box up again to move it into the room. It was then that Judy realized that Nick's door was open. She tilted her head at it, remembering that it had been closed when they left. He must have stopped here before going out to meet his friends.

 _Maybe I just missed him_ , she thought, a tad surprised at the tingling sense of disappointment that flooded her chest at the idea that she might have been close to seeing him for just a second. She shook her head at herself. Clearly, she was starting to like this fox just a little _too_ much.

Or was it "too much"? Really? Was there anything wrong with it? Was there any reason why she shouldn't pursue it? Besides the fact that foxes and bunnies weren't really known for being friends in the first place, let alone more than that?

It had never before occurred to Judy to be attracted to anyone who wasn't a fellow rabbit, or at least a hare, but Nick was… Well, he was different somehow.

What about the fact that she was leading a secret life as a wanted vigilante?

She let out a snort followed by a light, self-deprecating laugh at that. His reaction to seeing her on ZNN hadn't been negative, exactly, but it sure wasn't enthusiastic, either. It was doubtful that he could accept that part of her. After all, he'd been skeptical of her dream to become a cop, too. Well, besides that sweet comment earlier this evening.

Maybe she could convince him, warm him up to the idea.

… And if it didn't work?

Judy's shoulders slumped a little as a profound sense of chagrin seemed to soak her bones at the very thought of his rejection. In a short amount of time, he had become a good friend, possibly better than any she'd had before coming to Zootopia. Now his opinion mattered more to her than the combined opinions of every mammal in Bunnyburrow.

The lion poked his head around her bedroom doorframe, startling her out of her deliberations. "Want help setting it up?" he asked.

"Oh, no, but thank you," Judy said with a dismissive wave. "I have to take off soon, so I'll just do it later."

With a nod, the lion exited her room, bid her goodbye, and headed back downstairs to get back to work.

Once he left, Judy sighed and glanced forlornly around the apartment with her paws on her hips.

Well, no use feeling sorry for herself.

Within minutes, she had changed into her Crossfire gear. Just before leaping out of her bedroom window, she remembered the photograph Mrs. Otterton let her keep and plucked it out of her purse. Once it was safely tucked into one of her pouches—and she clicked her tongue irritably when it reminded her that she hadn't yet replenished her supply of ropes and smoke pellets—she dropped to the ground outside her window and started looking for trouble.

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:02 p.m._

* * *

"What's a guy got to do to get in trouble around here?" Nick muttered to himself as he stepped a little further along the bridge wall, shaking his small can of black paint.

He'd decked himself out in his usual head-to-toe dark outfit and then chosen a bridge in Savanna Central that wasn't terribly busy without being totally obscure, hoping that the balance would make it a place that Crossfire would likely visit to scope out potential evildoers without risking too much exposure. So far, though, he'd been vandalizing the walls and arches for a good thirty or forty minutes, and she hadn't come along yet. If he knew of a way to draw her attention besides blatantly committing crime, he would do it. As it was, he simply kept spraying the paint and waiting. Not very patiently.

Well, at least it was good practice for his fox stick figures.

It was a lot harder to draw with a can than it was with a pen. Before he knew it, his teeth were biting his tongue as he concentrated. Before he knew it, another ten minutes had passed. Before he knew it, a certain pair of violet eyes had meandered into his train of thought, bypassing the ticket station entirely. Before he knew it, he had created a bunny stick figure, too, and her paw was _far_ too close to that of the nearest fox figure.

Gulping down a gasp, he frantically emptied most of his can of paint on hiding the bunny behind a gigantic and unsightly black blot. He frowned fiercely, growled with frustration at himself, and threw the can down with a little more force than he'd intended. It clanged out of sight, and he heard it smack against a trash can somewhere. Rather than look for it, he slouched his shoulder blades against the wall and crossed his arms, letting out an irked huff.

 _The one time I_ want _her to show up, and_ —

There was a scream. High-pitched and steeped in terror.

Nick blinked and straightened. Two thoughts blasted through his mind:

One, someone needed help.

Two, Crossfire would probably want to be the one helping.

Okay, three thoughts. Even if Crossfire didn't come, maybe he could finally do something productive while he waited for her.

A grin flashed across his face as he broke into a run toward the source of the distress.

As he was about to turn down an alleyway, another scream resounded, telling him that he was slightly off-course. He skidded to a stop and sprang off the ground to sprint in the correct direction.

Two more alleyways later, he located the center of the commotion—a rotund sheep in a rock band t-shirt was on his rump on the ground of a quiet street full of nothing but closed shops, scooting away from a towering wolf.

Just when the ram was about to shriek again, he glimpsed Nick emerging from the shadows. For a moment, his expression of terror contorted into one of perplexity, then wavered unsteadily between the two. Even the wolf paused to glance his way, his face frozen in an aggressive display of fangs and saliva while his claws remained hovering over the sheep's trembling form.

Immediately, Nick realized that something wasn't right about this situation—and not just because a wolf seemed to be attacking a ram—but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

He stopped trying to figure it out when a familiar bunny-shaped figure in black leaped to the ground from the top of one of the buildings.

"Crossfire!" he called out before he could stop himself. In the second that it took for her to whip around and see him, the wolf suddenly rocketed away in the opposite direction.

The bunny didn't hesitate as she shot after the wolf like a bullet. Rolling his eyes, Nick followed, pushing himself to match her speed as best as he could.

They were led around several streets before Crossfire decided to put an end to the chase. In front of him, Nick watched with a begrudging sense of awe as she pumped her little legs hard enough to eventually launch herself toward the wall of a building only to kick off it and propel herself forward enough to land in front of the wolf. There was no time for the wolf to stop or change direction, and for a second, Nick worried that the collision between him and the bunny would be nasty. However, Crossfire took advantage of the wolf's momentum by sliding her body under his stomach, grabbing his shirt, and throwing him several feet ahead. Nick winced as the wolf landed with an audible thud on the loose pebbles of the pavement and didn't get up.

Panting, Nick rested his paws on his knees, but his well-earned rest came to an abrupt halt when Crossfire pivoted to face him.

"What were you trying to do to that ram?!" she yelled.

It took Nick's mind a moment to understand what she was implying. He pointed briefly at the wolf. "I'm not with him."

"Well, you weren't _against_ him, were you?" Crossfire persisted, folding her arms firmly with one hip cocked. "You just stood there!"

"I had arrived _seconds_ before you did," Nick replied, just barely hiding his snarl. "I was _about_ to do something to help."

Judging by the tense silence that passed between them, as well as the fact that Crossfire never shifted from her stern position, Nick doubted that she believed him.

"Where are your friends tonight?" she finally asked, her tone only slightly softer.

Nick straightened his shoulders. "It's just me tonight." He took a cautious step forward, noting that she held her ground. "I was actually hoping to talk to you."

The bunny slowly tilted her head at him. "About?"

"You need to stop this vigilante work of yours," he said bluntly.

Despite the outfit covering every inch of her body, Nick would swear he could see her fur bristling. "Why? So that you can force your ideas of justice on the world without anybody to challenge you? I don't think so!"

"Anyone tell you that you think a _little_ too highly of yourself?" Nick retorted. When she looked ready to jump into a fistfight with him, he shook his head and raised his paws placatingly. "Look, forget I said that. As I'm sure you've seen, you were on the news today. The ZPD is after you. But that's not the worst of it. All they want to do is arrest you." He paused in the hope that his next words would sink into her as deeply as necessary. "The reason why I'm telling you to stop is because the mammals of my organization want to kill you for what you're doing."

For a while, Crossfire said nothing. When she spoke, he could tell that she was trying to sound confident, but she was clearly a bit shaken. "And you're telling me this because?"

Pinching his nose, Nick sighed. "Because I disagree with them. Why do you think?"

After a moment, Crossfire leaned her weight onto her other hip. Although her mouth was concealed by her mask, it was obvious that she wanted to say something and simply couldn't produce the words.

So Nick continued. "They can do it, too, you know. It's a decently sized organization with funding from several sources, including one of the wealthiest crime bosses in Zootopia. Some of the members are street fighters and paid assassins. You're just one mammal. They _will_ get you if they want to."

Slowly, Crossfire swayed her head from side to side. "No. I have no reason to believe you."

"You _need_ to believe me."

"I can't just quit after the first threat."

"One threat may be all it takes."

"And you could be lying just to get me off your tails."

"I'm _not_ —"

"You're a thief! Thieves are selfish and only think of themselves! Why should I believe you?"

"Will you listen to me for one _second_?!" Nick shouted. It seemed to startle her into staring at him, body hunched as though prepared to dash away at any moment. He plowed on. "What would I gain from telling you that there are mammals out there who have it in for you? Yes, I _obviously_ want you off our tails, but I _also_ don't think you deserve to die!" He spread his palms at his sides. "I mean, sure, I guess you can think of it as selfish that I want you to live if only to spare my own conscience, but it still helps you in the end, so why should you care about my motivations?" He chanced another step forward, but she still didn't retreat, and he might have admired it if he didn't want to grab her shoulders and shake her. "I'm telling you the truth! Stop what you're doing, or you're going to get _killed_!"

Another long, uncertain silence quivered between them. The sound of clopping hooves in the distance interrupted it.

"They went this way!" a male voice said. Nick guessed it was the ram he and Crossfire had saved.

And there were a couple other pairs of paws trailing closely after him.

Cops.

Nick tried to channel all of his desperation into Crossfire's mind as he stared at her. "Will you give up your vigilantism?" he implored.

She only paused for a second. "No."

He heaved an exasperated sigh. " _Please_."

With a shake of her head, she repeated herself. "No."

Gritting his teeth, Nick whipped out one of the guns holstered on his belt and answered, "Then I won't apologize."

The bunny gasped in fear and tried to roll out of the way, but she didn't realize what a wider range his shot would have because it wasn't lead he was using to stop her—it was a net.

As soon as it touched her, it wrapped itself tightly around her body and twisted itself up at her feet, throwing off her balance. She fell to the ground and threw herself into trying to wriggle free—but in vain. Nick hurried to stand over her and let her examine the gun in his paw.

"A new gift from my boss," he explained. "You're out of your league, bunny. I hope you know I'll do everything I can to stop you."

"Funny, I could say the same thing to you!" Crossfire spat back at him.

Nick only nodded before scurrying to another alleyway, unwilling to risk saying another word when the voices of the ram and the police officers had walked so close. At this point, he was equally wary of being spotted, so he didn't stick around to watch the police arrest the bunny. Instead, he soundlessly rushed in the direction toward his apartment.

Although it wasn't how he'd hoped the evening would go, Crossfire would be safe _and_ out of the way in police custody, and that was all that mattered.

His job was done, and he texted Big to tell him so.

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:42 p.m._

* * *

The fox retreated not a moment too soon. Dawn had started to panic a bit. His presence had been unexpected in the first place, but everything turned out all right.

As expected, Jesse led the police officers down a nearby street instead of taking them onto the correct one. Knowing that he couldn't keep them distracted forever, Dawn emerged from her hiding place behind a dumpster in an alley opposite to the one in which the fox made his escape. Then she jogged to Crossfire's writhing side. Fortunately, her keychain had a small knife in it—tiny mammals such as herself could never be too prepared, after all—and she used it to slice through the net easily.

After a rather awkward pause, the bunny shook off the remains of the trap. If Dawn could see clearly into that mask, she might have expected to find curiosity there, if not outright wariness.

"Who are you?" Crossfire queried.

"Like you, I'm a small mammal who values justice," Dawn leaned toward her and whispered conspiratorially, then extended her hoof. "I'm Assistant Mayor Bellwether, and I must say, Crossfire, I am _such_ a big fan."

The bunny shuffled her feet, probably blushing under her mask. Honestly, that only made her more endearing. Dawn had to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks.

"Listen, I have a favor to ask from you," she said, and Crossfire's ears instantly stiffened with attention. "I'm sure you've heard about the missing mammals, right?" The bunny nodded. "The ZPD have been doing their best, but it's not enough to find _any_ of them. So I was wondering—simply because both of us are more interested in doing the right thing than we are in keeping somebody else's rules—would you mind looking into this specifically for me? It's City Hall's topmost priority right now. We're worried that a serial kidnapper is on the loose."

Slowly, Crossfire nodded at her. "Yes, of course, ma'am. I'm here to help."

"Oh, please, call me Dawn," the sheep chuckled, playfully smacking Crossfire's arm. Then she produced a business card from a pocket in her dress— _Whoever invented pocketed dresses will probably get automatic entry into heaven_ , Dawn thought to herself—and handed it to the bunny. "Call me anytime you need something. Seriously, _anytime._ And thank you _so_ much. I've been so concerned about this. It's just a huge load off my mind that you're so willing to—"

Abruptly, she realized that Jesse and the cops were getting closer again. He probably wouldn't be able to hold them at bay anymore.

"We can't let the police find you!" Dawn whispered urgently as she pushed Crossfire away—not in any particular direction, just _away_. "Quick, get out of here!"

Crossfire paused. Bellwether raised her eyebrows at her and was about to shoo her away when the bunny spoke with a sincerity she hardly ever heard.

"Thank you," she said, "for your help tonight."

With an amiable grin, Dawn replied, "Well, you know, we little guys have to stick together."

"Like glue," Crossfire replied, a small smile in her voice.

Dawn allowed herself a small, squeaky chuckle. "Good one."

Then the bunny hopped swiftly out of sight.

Once she was gone, Dawn hastened to Woolton's side—it was a miracle the head of the wolf costume hadn't fallen off in all the excitement—and gently moved his shoulders.

"Go!" she hissed urgently to him. Thank goodness he was just beginning to wake up. "You need to get out of here _now_!"

"Now?"

"Now, and you know how I hate repeating myself."

Woolton nodded. As he rose to his feet, his movements were slow and obviously pained. When he lifted his hooves to remove the wolf mask from his head, Dawn clicked her tongue at him.

"Wait until you're back at your place," she scolded him with a wagging finger. "We can't have anybody getting suspicious of us."

As Woolton staggered out of sight as quickly as he could, Jesse and two investigating officers—one a tiger, one a wolf, the sight of which sprayed an icy chill down Dawn's spine—rounded the corner to the street where Crossfire and Woolton were only a moment ago. Jesse feigned his confusion and dismay while Dawn explained that she had been out for an evening walk, and what a coincidence it was that they would all run into each other like this!

Mentally, however, she was going through her checklist.

 _Friend made?_

Put a mammal in trouble, save them from it, and earn their trust. Crossfire was in her pocket now.

 _Check. Seed planted?_

Well, there was no doubt in Dawn's mind that Crossfire would eventually figure out where to find the missing mammals. The rest would follow naturally.

 _Check. Jesse and Woolton okay?_

She glanced around quickly. Jesse was still conversing with the cops, and Woolton was nowhere to be found.

 _Check. Lionheart framed?_

Bellwether grinned to herself.

 _Almost check._

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:29 p.m._

* * *

For most of his adult life, Nick had slept, eaten, and relaxed in one-mammal apartments. He enjoyed living alone—the solitude, the peace, the freedom. Just four days ago, he would've reveled in it.

Now, however, he entered the apartment with its lights turned off, enveloped in a silence that gaped with absence.

A particular absence.

Where was Judy?

Ever since she had moved in, she had been there to greet him at night. Apparently, he was already so used to it—and so content with it—that he found himself nursing a stinging sense of loss upon coming home to an empty place.

And after enduring yet another stressful evening, he'd so looked forward to seeing her and giving in to her inexplicable manner of soothing and rejuvenating him—just by being herself.

Nick trudged into his bedroom, tossed his duffel bag into its compartment, and changed into a t-shirt and gym shorts. With a contemplative frown, he then settled himself on the couch and lay his head against the throw pillows.

It wasn't like he _needed_ to go to bed right now.

He could wait.

 _You're hopeless, Nick Wilde,_ he sighed to himself as he closed his eyes.

* * *

 _Day 4: Thursday, June 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:36 p.m._

* * *

"Nick? Nick?"

Judy whispered the fox's name and shook his shoulder gently. Although she was surprised to find him sleeping on the couch, she had to feel thankful that she didn't have to debate with herself about whether to intrude into his bedroom. She needed to wake him.

This was unusual for her, trying to rouse a sleeping mammal. It was impolite at _best_. But she had been trembling and short of breath her entire way home, and it hadn't stopped even after she'd entered the apartment and changed into her pajamas. The only way she could think to feel better was by seeing the rich, vibrant green eyes of her friend and roommate.

At last, they blinked unsteadily open. For a moment, Judy was startled by the way that they glowed in the dark, but then she remembered that that was normal for a lot of predators. Anyway, all that really mattered was the concern rising in them as he registered who had woken him. Her own eyes were beginning to water just by gazing into his.

"Carrots?" Nick said softly as he slowly sat up. "Is something wrong?"

Rather than answering right away, Judy crawled onto the couch and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist as she pressed her face against his chest. She noticed how hesitantly he raised his arms to return the embrace, but she was too grateful to apologize for her forwardness.

"I…" Her voice hitched a little. She swallowed to get it under control. "I just had a horrible nightmare, that's all."

After a moment, Nick angled his head near hers, enhancing the feeling of closeness between them. She melted into his warmth and the way that his arms tightened their hold on her as he shifted and leaned back into the throw pillows.

"So did I, Fluff," he murmured.

After a moment, Judy rolled off him and onto the couch so that she could curl up against his side, one of his arms remaining relaxed around her shoulder while she rested her paw on his rib.

They didn't realize that they had fallen asleep like that until they heard Judy's alarm blaring from inside her bedroom.

* * *

 **Random A/N: I actually knew somebody who would regularly say that he was "finer than frog hair split nine ways" when asked how he was doing. He was a nice guy.**


	6. Don't Count Me Out

**Chapter 6—Don't Count Me Out**

 **A/N: I'm behind on answering reviews and messages! Sorry about that. I will make sure I get that done before the end of the weekend.**

* * *

 _Day 5: Friday, June 20_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:00 a.m._

* * *

It took Nick a moment to realize that the obnoxious noise interrupting his dream at quick, regular intervals wasn't just part of the dream itself. It was an alarm, bleating at him that playtime with oblivion was over. When he finally accepted it, he mentally prepared himself to swing his body up and start getting ready for the day, but a weight on his arm kept him pinned. He looked toward it and couldn't hide a small, surprised flinch when he found a pair of huge violet eyes just inches away from his face. Judy blinked guiltily at him as he gasped and clutched his chest.

"Morning, Fluff," he tried to chuckle it off, briefly squeezing her shoulder. "Come here often?" Then he winced and resisted the urge to slap himself.

 _Ah, yes, the best way to diffuse an awkward situation—make an even more awkward joke. Off to a good start today._

Fortunately, Judy huffed amusedly. "Hey, there. I hope you weren't uncomfortable all night."

Nick shook his head with a yawn. "Not at all, actually." Well, his neck and back ached, and the arm beneath Judy's shoulders felt a bit tingly, but he meant it all the same. He'd slept soundly, and despite the initial shock of finding her so close to him, he considered it worth the tradeoff of waking up alone in his own bed.

"I'm glad," Judy said quietly with a sweet smile. "Thanks for being there for me last night. Sorry I woke you up, though."

"Don't be," Nick assured her. "It's not a problem. Besides, I was having a rough night myself. The company was welcome."

With a content hum, Judy let out a sigh so close to his neck that it danced past his fur to caress his skin, and he barely caught himself before he started leaning into it. "What happened?" the bunny asked in a sleepy murmur.

Nick pretended that he needed to shift into a more comfortable position so that he could have time to consider his answer. "I just… had a bad argument with someone. It kind of left me drained."

"What was it about?"

"I was trying to help, but they gave me the ol' side-eye, like usual," Nick responded.

Lifting her head and narrowing her eyes, Judy asked, "Because you're a fox?"

With a shrug, Nick replied, "Maybe."

Suddenly, Judy slammed her head onto his chest with a growl. Nick gasped and blinked rapidly while trying to recapture his breath.

"You deserve _so much_ better than that, Nick!" she said fiercely, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I'm so _frustrated_ , I could just—just—" Then she sighed and brought her sympathetic gaze back to meet his surprised one. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay, Fluff," Nick smirked. "Next time, I'll just sick you on 'em."

"Please do!" Judy agreed. There was no hint of a jest in her firm tone, and Nick felt simultaneously flattered and slightly frightened.

"So, uh, what about you? What made your night so bad?" he queried.

Judy allowed her head to plop onto his shoulder with a sigh. "Like I said, just a nightmare," she grumbled. A short but contemplative silence passed between them before she spoke again. "Anyway, I guess we need to get ready for work, huh?"

"We still have time," Nick answered hesitantly as he fought the urge to lay his cheek near the base of her ears.

"I'm sure we'll both keep saying that until there's no time left," Judy replied with a soft giggle and closed her eyes. "I'm going to shower in three… two… one…"

She made a prolonged grunting noise but otherwise didn't move an inch. Nick chuckled.

"Zero and three quarters…" Judy mumbled. "Zero and a half…"

"Not like you to be so slow to get up in the morning," Nick remarked, grinning at her. "Are you that tired?"

"No, just comfy," she responded, snuggling a bit closer.

It took a moment for Nick's lungs to remember how to do their jobs. Before he could think better of it, he turned onto his side and pulled her toward him. "Showers are overrated anyway. Did you know that they're predicting a drought this summer? We should just save the water for when we really need it."

Judy's light giggle tugged Nick's grin a little wider, and he found himself curling into her. "Well, I should at least go turn off the alarm. That beeping is starting to get on my nerves."

Truthfully, Nick had to agree with that.

With a displeased grimace, Judy pried herself out of Nick's arms, and reluctantly, he let her. She started to twist around to plant her feet on the floor but misjudged how close she was to the edge of the couch, rolling straight off it. Her landing was punctuated with a soft "Oof!" and swiftly followed by their peals of laughter.

Nick peeked down at her on the floor, wiping a tear from his eye as he regained control of himself. "Bunny overboard!" he chortled. "Shall I toss you a buoy, Admiral Hopps?"

"No, just let me drown!" Judy exclaimed between snickers as she covered her scarlet face with her paws.

Squishing his face against the fabric of the couch to muffle the sounds of his mirth, Nick barely heard Judy scramble to her feet and pad toward her bedroom. He looked up at her just as she was turning the doorknob, allowing him to catch the way that she coquettishly glanced at him over her shoulder before disappearing inside. It was enough to send shooting stars down his spine. As her door shut, he flung his arms wide and slumped back against the throw pillows. A moment later, the alarm stopped.

 _Falling hard,_ he mused to himself. _Why am I not actively pursuing this again?_

Of course, he knew the answer to that question very well. And when he heard Judy exit her bedroom to lock herself in the bathroom, he sat up and felt around for where his phone had gotten lost in the crevices of the couch. Drawing it out, he inwardly groaned when he saw the waiting text from Mr. Big. It was a response to Nick's text about having caught Crossfire.

" _Good work, Nicky. I must say that I am pleasantly surprised,_ " it said. " _As a reward, you may present an idea for how to move forward tonight. There will be a meeting. Usual time, but at my home. See you there."_

Gaze fixing on the ceiling, Nick finally allowed himself time to review the events of last night.

 _Crossfire_.

How was she doing? Fuming in some cell, probably. But at least she was safe and unable to cause more trouble.

Idly wondering whether the police had decided to release her true identity yet, he thumbed through the trending news on his phone. He frowned. Deeper. Deeper still.

There was nothing at all about the vigilante bunny.

She was _all over_ the news yesterday. The ZPD should have taken the chance to immediately assure the public that she had been caught. It should have been the talk of the city.

… Maybe it was still too early in the morning, so the news hadn't had a chance to get out yet?

That's what he decided to tell himself as he stood and ambled toward his bedroom to get dig out the diner's polo shirt and some slacks. The uneasy sensation tightening his gut—it was nothing.

Nothing at all.

Everything was fine.

His ear twitched when he heard Judy start singing. The fact that it was muted by the closed door and running water couldn't hide its smooth quality and happy tone.

 _Everything's fine_ , Nick smiled.

* * *

 _Day 5: Friday, June 20_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:35 a.m._

* * *

With long, thoughtful strokes, Judy brushed her fur as she studied herself blankly in the bathroom mirror. Away from Nick's comforting embrace, her close call the night before hit her mind with full force. She'd only acted as a vigilante for a few days, and it already felt more overwhelming than she had expected. Not that she'd been naïve enough to believe that it would be easy or that she wouldn't make enemies, but the expectation was nothing like the reality. _Imagining_ that someone would want to arrest or even kill her was starkly different from _knowing_ it, from being so _close_ to it. Although she'd accused the Hustler of lying to protect his own tail, she acknowledged that he had nothing to gain from telling her that someone was gunning for her to die. Still, because of him, everything almost fell apart, and all it had taken was a single shot from his gun…

" _You're just one mammal,"_ he had said to her. And he was right. How long could she keep this up?

What would come to her first—prison time or death?

Before the hyperventilation could set in again, she lifted her chin and took several deep, calming breaths.

Fortunately, she'd never known when to quit, and she didn't intend to start learning now.

Rather than continuing to dwell on such dark thoughts, she decided to focus on happier ones—like maybe taking down the Hustler's mysterious organization. Now _that_ brought a cheerful smile to her face.

After just a few more invigorated flourishes with her brush, she zipped herself into her serving dress, nodded in satisfaction at her reflection, and turned to skip out the door. She found Nick standing in front of the stove in the kitchen, flipping something on a pan. Stepping forward, she gasped delightedly when she realized it was a pancake. There was already a plate of them on the adjacent counter.

"Oh, _thank you_ , Nick!" she squealed. "I _love_ pancakes!"

"Such a presumptuous bunny you are," Nick quipped. "When did I say any of this was for you?"

Judy gave him a light, playful slap on the arm. "You can't fool me anymore, Slick. I know you're just a big softie."

The warm grin he granted her did wonders to further improve her mood.

Once he had inhaled a couple of pancakes, Nick declared that it was his turn to use the shower and left Judy munching on her breakfast at the table. Upon hearing the click of the lock on the bathroom door, she hurried to her room to retrieve a disposable phone she'd purchased after Nick left the department store last night, figuring she'd never know when she'd need it. Thank goodness she had.

In a moment, she had also found the business card that Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether had left for her. She smiled at it.

 _At least_ someone _believes in me!_

Quickly, she donned her earbuds and dialed Bellwether's number into her phone. Within seconds, the assistant mayor's squeakily jubilant voice came on the line.

"Hello, thank you for calling City Hall, this is Assistant Mayor Bellwether, how may I help you be anything today?" she chirped.

Smirking at the greeting, Judy adopted her alter ego's voice and answered. "Assistant Mayor Bellwether, I wasn't sure I'd catch you this early. It's Crossfire. I—"

"Oh, my shiny heavens, _Crossfire_!" Bellwether crowed. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon, but let me tell you, your melodious voice is a balm to my ears!"

"Uh, thank you," Judy blinked at the compliment. "Listen, I know that you probably have more knowledge than I do right now about the criminal activity of this city. There's a few particular guys I'm after—a couple of missing predators. One's a bobcat named Randol, and the other's an otter called Emmitt Otterton. I was there when the Hustler stole their case files, but do you know whether the ZPD had any leads on them?"

"Gosh, I don't think so," Bellwether replied with a click of her tongue. "If they did, I don't know anything about it. Sorry, hon."

"That's okay," Judy let out a small sigh. "I knew it was a long shot. Well, I'm also looking for the Hustler himself. Can you tell me anything about where he usually hangs out?"

Bellwether drew a long breath before responding. "I know he's been more prominent on the ZPD's radar lately, but he's a relatively small part of a bigger problem. The organization that he works with is called the Den of Thieves. From what we know, their whole shtick is just making life as miserable as possible for everybody else—especially anyone with a lot of money or authority—because they feel marginalized or something." Papers rustled in the background. "Let me see—I think I actually have a file on them somewhere—ah, here it is. Right! It's suspected that they have semi-regular meetings in Tundratown, but we haven't been able to sneak into one yet. One cop tried about a year ago and was promptly killed. Turns out they know who just about all the cops are." She paused for a moment. "The police suspect that the last meeting took place about a month ago at the home of one Antonio Big, a notorious crime boss. Maybe you could scope it out and infiltrate it. I can text you the address. I have your number on my caller ID."

Judy tapped her lip thoughtfully. "If even a cop couldn't do it, I'll have to be extra careful."

"Well, remember that most of the cops are huge. It's hard for them sneak around. But that's one of the benefits of being a small mammal, right?" Bellwether chuckled. "Nobody ever sees _us_ coming."

"True," Judy nodded. Then she heard the shower turn off. "Hey, I've got to run, but yeah, could you text me that address? I'll probably go check it out tonight and see what I find out."

"Of course!" Bellwether sang. "Don't hesitate to call again if you need me, okay? You'll always have a friend at City Hall, Crossfire."

"Thank you, assistant mayor," Judy smiled, and she meant it. "That really means a lot to me."

After ending the call and seeing Bellwether's text pop up in her notifications, Judy settled back at the dining table to continue eating her pancakes. By then, they were looking a little dry, so she firmly squashed her mother's voice reminding her that the sugar was all still there and drowned them in a waterfall of maple syrup. As she was lifting her third forkful to her mouth, Nick sauntered out of the bathroom, his fur a bit scruffy where it wasn't concealed by his white polo shirt and slacks.

"Did you brush your fur at all?" she queried, tilting her head curiously at him.

Nick shook his head and grinned as he waggled his brows at her. "Nope. That smooth, impeccable sheen you see on my fur every day just settles into itself _naturally_."

With a scoff and half-lidded stare, Judy replied, "Sure, Slick."

Now the fox was swaying his hips back and forth while weaving his paws through the air in some kind of odd little dance that she was sure was meant to look impressive. "Come on, Carrots, you don't need to be so jealous just because I'm capable of attracting all the ladies with my literally _effortless_ good looks."

"Jealous?" Judy laughed. "You're right, I should stop being jealous of the _dozens_ of drooling ladies who are lining up just for the chance to catch some of your mucus in a bottle." She pressed the edge of her paw against her brows and twisted in her chair to peer exaggeratedly around the living room. "Where _did_ they all go anyway?"

When she turned back to Nick, grinning at her own joke, her heart took a tumble upon seeing him staring at her with an expression somewhere between fondness and uncertainty. He quickly schooled it away, though, replacing it with his default easy smirk. Then he walked slowly toward her.

With each step he took, Judy's chest tightened. Once he was right in front of her, it felt like someone had used her lungs to tie a bow around her heart. He bent toward her. Her breath evaporated.

And then he used his thumb to wipe a bit of maple syrup off her chin before straightening.

"Such an undignified bunny you are," Nick said. His smirk never wavered, but his voice was a bit… low. Low in a way that weakened her knees.

With a quick swallow, she drudged up her ability to speak. "Hey, I'll have you know that I am a _very_ refined bunny."

"As opposed to _original_ -fined," Nick said with a wink—dang it, Judy loved it when he did that—before thumping her lightly on the head with a knuckle. "I'll make our lunches in a jiffy. Then we can head out."

* * *

 _Day 5: Friday, June 20_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:51 a.m._

* * *

"What are these anyway?" Dawn murmured absentmindedly to herself as she looked at the papers in her hooves. She'd only grabbed them to sound convincing on the phone. Noticing that they were grant proposals for local research groups, she rolled her eyes and set them aside before picking up her ringing cell phone. Since she recognized the unsaved number, she didn't bother with any pleasantries when she accepted the call. "What?"

"I'll be taking care of the jaguar tonight." It was Doug, keeping his communication as concise as always.

"Splendid!" Dawn grinned. "Let me know when you're done."

"Will do." After a moment, the ram dryly observed, "You sound like you're in a good mood."

Humming cheerfully, Dawn replied, "Well, you've heard about that bunny vigilante, right? Crossfire?"

"Sure."

"Last night, I befriended her and then asked her to focus on finding the missing predators," Dawn continued, letting smugness color her tone. "She _just_ called me to ask for information. She was already looking for Otterton and the Hustler. I directed her straight to Big's mansion. From there, I'm sure she'll find the predators, and she _might_ even get the Den of Thieves out of my wool at the same time. I can hardly believe how perfect this is!" With a chuckle, she added, "I should really give Woolter a raise. His information has been invaluable."

"Just remember who's got the gun here," Doug remarked.

Dawn raised her brows and frowned. "Are you threatening me, Doug?"

"No," he answered, a shrug in his voice. "But if you plan on giving one guy a raise, I might just forget how to shoot until you give me one, too."

And with that, he hung up.

With a content sigh, Dawn sat back in her chair and let her head loll over the edge. She idly wondered if she should start practicing her acceptance speech for when she gets sworn in as mayor. It could happen any day now.

" _Smellwether_!" The nickname that she so hated bulldozed through her thoughts from the speaker of the landline telephone. " _Zootopia University is hounding me about those grant proposals! Bring them to my office!"_

Gathering up the papers that she had dismissed just a few minutes ago, Dawn hastily spouted, "Yes, sir! Coming, sir!" She scurried out of the office, but not before ensuring that her face was free of the scowl in which she wanted to let it rest.

 _Any day now, things are going to change_ , she reminded herself.

* * *

 _Day 5: Friday, June 20_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:34 p.m._

* * *

Although Judy hadn't yet visited all of the other districts, she already felt pretty sure that Tundratown was the worst one.

It was cold. _Absurdly_ cold. On top of that, it was very white, which wasn't kind to her all-black disguise as Crossfire.

So there she was, in a body suit that hid her scent and identity but couldn't keep her warm, and she stuck out like a sore thumb almost everywhere she went. Even the occasional alleyway retained a glow from the pearly-white snow. Since her first visit to Tundratown two nights ago had occurred after the sun had already fallen, she hadn't needed to worry as much about being seen. Now, she kept jogging back and forth in alleys that she could tell didn't get much traffic so that she could keep her body heated as she waited for darkness.

By now, the sunset had almost run its course, but it felt like it had taken _hours_. Judy found herself regretting rushing to replenish her supplies and then come here so quickly after work when she could have spent a little quality time with Nick first.

With an exhausted sigh, she slowed to a stop and balanced her paws on her knees as she fought to catch her breath. Now that her roommate was on her mind, she glanced around furtively before fishing her cell phone—her regular one—from one of the pockets in her belt. Unlocking it, she opened her messages and scrolled to the last brief conversation that she'd had with Nick.

" _Don't forget, Carrots—you, me, popcorn, and The Office, tonight. If you're a good bunny, maybe we can even have some sweet cheese and crackers. ;)"_

When she'd seen that text an hour ago, Judy had replied, _"Well, maybe I want sour cheese and crackers this time."_

Before she had been able to dwell much on the lameness of her comeback, Nick had retorted, _"See, this is why I'm the cook, and you're not."_

Then he'd followed it up a minute later.

" _Be safe out there."_

After reviewing the texts, Judy realized that she grinning. Why was she grinning? Ugh, she knew why she was grinning, and the knowledge made her simultaneously giddy and exasperated with herself.

She stuffed the phone back into her belt with another sigh. It was almost dark enough for her to start skulking in the shadows, but she still rapidly tapped her foot in a show of impatience. The sooner she could get this job done, the better. She had a _very_ important movie night to attend.

Finally, the streets were clothed in the dark gray hues of early night, and Judy dared to venture from the alley where she'd spent the last forty minutes. Although she still tried to stick to those narrow pathways between buildings as much as possible, it was much easier to get around when she could occasionally use a street without too much concern. In her head, she kept repeating the address that Bellwether had texted her.

It took another half hour of tiptoeing around before Judy came upon the long, winding road that she knew would lead to the mansion. She groaned when she considered how long it would take her to walk that whole way. After taking only a few steps forward, her ears swiveled to more fully analyze the sound of an approaching car, and she dove into a nearby snow bank.

Ears down, she peeked over the edge of the bank to watch the car—a limo, apparently—glide slowly and carefully along the icy road. She squinted her eyes at it, trying to decide if she dared do what she was thinking of doing.

She did.

Just as it was passing by, she shot up and crawled with a desperate speed toward it. The fact that she was sure she looked ridiculous was just another reason why she was glad to have the nighttime darkness as a cover. As the car crunched around a small bend, Judy leapt onto the rear bumper as lightly as she could. Fortunately, it was a huge limo— _Who uses this thing? Polar bears?_ she wondered—so it was easy for her to settle her small body onto it. If only the metal weren't so freezing against her rump.

Although it felt nice to rest her feet, she reminded herself to stay on alert. There was no guarantee exactly where this vehicle was going. She kept her eyes on the mailboxes, fences, and plaques adorning the large, stately homes that they passed, grateful for the taillights and occasional streetlights that made up for her lack of night vision.

The sound of iron squeaking on hinges made her flinch. Then, for a moment, Judy's heart raced in panic when the limo suddenly lurched into a turn. She reached up instinctively and grasped the windshield wiper of the back window to steady herself as she tried to figure out where they were going now. To her relief, she spotted a gold plaque fastened to the top of an elegant barred iron gate, where she saw Antonio Big's address lit up in the red hues of the left rear blinker.

 _So this limo belongs to Big!_ Judy realized triumphantly. _Perfect!_

She nearly gasped when she realized that the gate was being attended by an enormous polar bear in a suit, paralyzing her with fear for a moment. Luckily, his gaze was roaming the main road from which they had come; he never noticed her before the limo left his line of sight. Heaving a sigh, she relaxed again.

Down a long, long driveway the limo went, finally arriving at a huge and stately mansion themed with smooth columns and muted colors. The occasional golden-orange light seeped into the dark air through the latticed windows. For a moment, Judy simply gawked at it, but when she heard the limo doors open, she sucked in a breath and scrambled under the vehicle. She watched the feet of two polar bears— _Oh, so the limo really is for polar bears_ —as they shuffled past, followed by the feet and tails of—of—

Blinking rapidly, her jaw fell open as she registered the tails of a weasel, fennec, and red fox.

 _They're here! They're really here!_

After waiting for them to disappear into the mansion, Judy glanced around to ensure that there was no one to see her before she hurried toward the nearest window, which she saw was the type that could be slid open. She stood on tiptoe to look inside, noted the lever keeping the window locked, and then quickly ducked, heart pounding furiously, when she nearly made eye contact with yet another polar who was stationed at a door across the hall, which was visible through the open door of the room belonging to the window.

Biting her lip in thought for a moment, she slowly reached for a pebble on the ground, tossed it at the glass, and then ran to hide behind a nearby decorative bush. Nothing happened at first, so she repeated her actions and waited once more. Finally, she heard the lever snap just before the window rose. Through the tiny branches and leaves of the bush, she could see a polar bear carefully scrutinizing the area, his nose sniffing the air suspiciously. Soon, however, he retreated back inside and closed the window. Judy held her breath as she waited to hear if the lever would pop back into place.

It didn't happen.

Grinning in triumph, Judy walked in a crouch to the next window, peeked through it just long enough to see that no one was on the other side of it, and threw a pebble at it, too. Then she rushed back to the first window, glanced into it, and, seeing that the polar bear had left to investigate the other pebble, pushed the window open as gently as she could. With that done, she jumped up and pulled herself onto the ledge. Just as she let herself drop into the room and slid the window back into place, she heard the other window open, and she had to suppress a giggle as she imagined the poor bear's frustration as he once again searched for a culprit.

However, she immediately refocused her attention and considered the room in which she had found herself. It appeared to be a parlor, the kind she imagined wealthy mammals would take their guests to chat over cups of tea and plates of biscuits. Ah, yes, there was a teapot surrounded by used teacups and a few half-eaten scones on the round wooden table in the middle of the mauve carpet. Everything looked sized for large mammals, though. Floral patterns abounded.

Judy's ears perked as she heard the lumbering steps of the polar bear returning. She managed to squish herself underneath a huge recliner. For minutes—maybe only six or seven, but it felt like more—she remained there, racking her brain to figure out what to do next, when she picked up the sound of small wheels squeaking lightly into the room. Doing her best to twist her head around in the confined space, she discovered that a food cart had stopped in front of the table just a few feet away, completely covered with an ivory-colored cloth. While the bear who had pushed it into the room was gathering the dirty dishes with his back turned to her— _Gosh, there are so many bears here!_ —she dashed silently out of her hiding place and slipped onto the bottom shelf of the cart. Once the gentle clattering of porcelain on metal ceased, the cart started moving again. Just a minute later, it passed into a room that immediately slammed Judy's senses with a variety of sizzling sounds, shouts, and tantalizing scents; it seemed she was in a kitchen. She heard the bear who was pushing the cart remove the tea set and demand some new dishes. After they were loaded on top of the cart, they promptly left.

Judy strained her ears as they went down what she assumed was another hallway, trying to catch the faintest hint of—

Aha! In the distance, someone was talking with a reedy yet authoritative tone.

"… most of you have accomplished your missions quite admirably. The Zootopian City Hall has begun to take notice of us. Don't worry, the other Senior thieves and I will continue ensuring that your civilian identities remain protected, but be on your guard. The more successful we become, the more effort the ZPD will put into…"

As the cart turned, Judy chanced a quick look around from beneath the inch or so of empty space between the fringe of the cloth and the little shelf on which she hid. All around her were predators, most notably the ones with the most unsavory reputations—lots of foxes, weasels, hyenas, coyotes, and just a smattering of hardened bears, wolves, and various felines. All of them were wearing darkly colored outfits that concealed the details of their bodies and faces, their mouths covered by voice distorters. Her heart lurched, and she forgot to pay attention to the rest of what the speaker was saying.

She realized that she was heading straight into the middle of the meeting. And for all intents and purposes, she was literally being delivered to it on a platter.

* * *

 _Day 5: Friday, June 20_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:32 p.m._

* * *

"Are we ready?" Nick asked Duke as he pulled on his mask and voice distorter.

The disguised weasel was sitting on the floor of the parlor—one of several in Big's ludicrously large mansion—clicking and typing rapidly on the laptop before him. "Ready as I could ever make a hopeless case like you, Wilde." With a few final taps, he closed the laptop, tucked it under his arm, and started moving toward the door. "I'll get this to the tech guy."

That left only Nick and Finnick. While the former was busy smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt, the latter was yanking his own mask over his face. For a moment, neither of them said a word.

"Guess we're really going to look for those mammals, huh?" Finnick muttered just before hiding his mouth with his voice distorter.

"That's the plan," Nick nodded, "assuming everyone votes in favor of it."

"It'd be good to have Otterton back," Finnick remarked with an idleness that didn't fool Nick for a second. "The place ain't the same without 'im. He was always nice to everybody, no matter who or what they were. Even you," he added with a small chuckle.

Nick huffed as he smirked at the comment and glanced at the framed photograph of Otterton and his family on top of the hearth next to him. "Even me."

"You heard what happened to him, right?"

Shaking his head, Nick answered, "Not much. Last I heard, Manchas was driving him here, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Finnick replied as he checked the contents of his utility belt. "Then Manchas said that he suddenly started screamin' 'bout Night Howlers and attacked 'im." He shrugged. "Sounds too crazy to be true, but Manchas is a pretty honest guy."

For a moment, Nick just absorbed this information. Then he sighed. "I don't know what to think, but somebody needs to find Otterton."

"Agreed," Finnick grunted. He patted Nick's arm as he shuffled past him and out of the parlor. "Ya did good, Nick," he said gruffly. "Let's keep doin' good."

Not until he heard the door click shut did Nick sigh to himself. "Yes, let's."

Finally decided that he was satisfied with his appearance, he turned to follow his friends before hesitating. He pulled out his phone from his belt, unlocked it, and scrolled through his social media news feed. His eyes rapidly scanned the headlines and hashtags, searching for something that wasn't there.

Still not a single word about Crossfire.

He bit back a worried growl and shoved his phone back into his belt, repeating the mantra that had been going through his mind all day— _Everything is fine, everything is fine, everything is fine_ …

Then, heaving a deep breath, he left the parlor and walked across the hall to the ballroom. Without pausing, he took in the familiar sight of the hundred or so mammals. In some way, all of them represented the marginalized populations of Zootopian society. Foxes, hyenas, weasels, and coyotes had all been born disadvantaged, centuries of stereotypes and undeservedly negative reputations limiting their potential before they even had the chance to prove themselves. Others were predators from more widely accepted species who had gotten into some trouble with the law, perhaps even served time, and now felt that they had nowhere else to go. Whether they were innocent or guilty was beside the point; a conviction was practically as good as a death sentence when it came to finding employment. What else could they do but join an organization like the Den of Thieves?

Polar bear waiters were stationed next to food carts that dotted the ballroom floor. Nick came upon the one nearest him, picked up a glass of red wine, and a took a sip to calm his nerves.

 _Everything is fine._

Glancing toward the stage, he was relieved that he hadn't missed anything important. Mr. Big and several other Senior Thieves—a wolf, two coyotes, a silver fox, and an enormous polar bear, all of them the only mammals in the room besides Mr. Big who didn't wear masks—stood in a straight line with their paws respectfully clasped behind their backs. A masked hyena was placidly positioned next to Mr. Big, who was addressing the gathering from atop a podium. Nick crossed his arms and leaned back against a wall on one side of the room as he watched the proceedings.

"For our first order of business, let us introduce our newest Senior Thief," Big said, motioning to the hyena beside him. "Throughout the six years of his membership, Wilbur Striperson has consistently upheld the ideals of the Den of Thieves. He has fulfilled all of his duties and assignments with dedication and cunning, garnering a nearly flawless track record. Many of you have had the pleasure of working under his direction. As our organization continues to grow, we need leaders like him—leaders with skill, vision, and loyalty—to help bring us into the future."

Big took a moment to sweep his hidden eyes over the crowd. "All of you know why we remain disguised even at our own meetings. If any of you are caught by the ZPD or any other organization that seeks to foil our purpose, you will be unable to compromise anyone beyond the Senior Thieves or those in your subgroups. However, those of us in the Senior Thieves present ourselves as faces of the Den of Thieves. We put ourselves at greater risk in order to make our indignation clear. Once Wilbur removes his mask, you will know his identity, and there will be no turning back for him. He has chosen to sacrifice his anonymity for the good of our cause. As he performs this task tonight, you will show him the respect that he deserves by bowing your heads." With that, he turned toward the hyena with a nod. "Striperson, if you would."

The hyena—Wilbur Striperson, Nick reminded himself, committing the name to memory—lifted his chin before raising his claws to carefully pull away his mask. The face beneath it revealed a scarred who appeared to be somewhere in his forties, scarred but still filled with a restrained vitality. This was a mammal who had all the zeal of someone who had never forgotten how he had been wronged but was also intelligent enough to know how to properly channel his ire.

For a moment, Nick and the other mammals in the ballroom bowed their heads toward him. Then Striperson stepped back to take his place in the line with the other Senior Thieves. Once again, Big focused his attention on the rest of the ballroom.

"Speaking of growth, I will now introduce a new initiative," Big said. Somehow, his voice forcefully filled every inch of the ballroom despite his size. "As we increase in size and influence, and as we continue to suffer the dismissal of the city authorities, it is time we begin forcing Zootopia to take us seriously. The other Senior Thieves and I have been discussing the possibility of orchestrating kidnappings for ransom and even occasional assassinations of prominent public figures."

Immediately, the air tensed throughout the room. Nick's eyes widened as his fur fought to prickle against the confines of his head-to-toe outfit. Some of the mammals exchanged uncomfortable glances while others nodded approvingly to themselves. However, no one dared interrupt Mr. Big. No, not Mr. Big.

"I understand that this is a bold new direction in which to head," Big went on, keeping an iron-tight hold on the crowd's attention. "However, as we continue to suffer dismissal from those in power, it is clear that we must demand the attention and respect that they will otherwise refuse to give."

At this, Big's gaze briefly flickered in his direction, and Nick could've sworn it was meant for him.

"Keep in mind that we are not seeking to change that which we cannot change," the shrew elaborated, lightly shaking a finger back and forth. "We may have evolved, but we are still animals. Our aim is to punish the society that continuously treats us as though _we_ should be punished merely for our existence. If change comes as a result of our efforts—" He paused to shrug. "Well, that would be a bonus."

For a moment, an anxious yet ponderous silence pervaded the room. Nick himself was staring aimlessly in front of him, trying to calm the thunderous beats of his heart and not think about the blood, the torn fabric...

 _Everything is fine_ , he told himself yet again. How many times had he needed to repeat it today? _Everything is fine_.

But as panic loomed over him, a single image floated into his mind, unbidden.

Those warm violet eyes.

What he wouldn't give for Judy's soothing presence right now.

No time to dwell on that, though. Big was speaking again, and although nausea was trickling into his gut, Nick forced himself to listen.

"For our next item of business, one of our subgroups has recently completed a mission that involved stealing records from City Hall," he said. "The records were for predators whom the Den of Thieves understands are innocent of the crimes for which they have been imprisoned. Now the assigned leader of that subgroup—one you may know as the Hustler—is going to present ideas about some next steps that we can take as an organization to further accomplish our purpose. When he's done, we'll hold a vote that will determine whether we will follow his suggestions. Without further ado…"

As Big trailed off, Nick pushed away from the wall and walked up the steps to the stage with as relaxed a mien as he could manage. A screen was gradually lowered at its rear, and the Senior Thieves discreetly moved away to join the crowd. Nick blinked for a moment at the light of the projector at the back of the room—briefly noting that he could see Duke sending him a thumbs up from his place beside it—and then looked up to meet a hundred gazes. He hoped that his gulp wasn't audible.

"Thanks for being here, everyone," he began, his silver tongue thankfully taking over. "I'd like to personally offer my congratulations to Wilbur Striperson. Looking forward to seeing what you bring to the table." After exchanging genial nods with the hyena, Nick continued. "But I'm sure you're all as anxious as I am to finish with this and get to the cake, so let's move on."

He paused to let a few chuckles peter out. Behind him, the screen started sliding through images of the records that he and his friends had found on their USB a few nights ago. Motioning toward it with one paw, Nick launched into his presentation. "These are the mammals who have had serious convictions forced on them by incompetent officers and lawyers who probably harbor some kind of prejudice toward predators, especially those who tend to be pushed toward the fringes of society. They and their families have suffered from humiliation, doubt, and financial hardship for no reason. The Zootopian justice system failed them, so we have attempted to give those mammals a clean slate." He fully faced the crowd with his paws behind his back. "With the information contained in these records, we propose holding a food and clothing drive for these predators' families. We submit this proposal to a vote. All those in favor, please raise your paws."

An overwhelming majority of the paws went up. In fact, Nick noted with satisfaction that he didn't think there was anyone who _didn't_ lift a paw.

"Very good. My group will figure out the details and come prepared with them at the next meeting," he said. With a nod, he cleared his throat and kept talking as the screen began alternating images of the case files he had stolen earlier in the week. "Now, some of you may have heard some rumors about fourteen missing predators. One of them is Emmitt Otterton, whom you may remember as Big's florist. He's sat in on a few of our meetings." A few of the mammals mumbled to each other in surprised and dismayed tones when they recognized the otter in question. Nick raised his voice to keep things moving. "Since so many of the disappearances have occurred closely together, and due to the fact that all of the missing mammals are predators, we suspect serial kidnapping. However, the ZPD has been unable to find any of them so far. We don't know why, but it doesn't matter. They need to be found." He took a quick but deep breath. "We are proposing that we expend some of our resources to start searching for these predators ourselves, and we submit this proposal to a vote. All those in favor, please raise your paws."

This time, only about half of the paws went into the air, and some seemed tentative. Nick suddenly felt very conscious of his shoulders as he tried to keep them from slumping.

"Okay, not a lot of you seem to be in support of this," he said, feigning confidence as expertly as always. "What's the issue?"

"Sounds too much like vigilantism to me," a wolf piped up.

"You think we're much different from vigilantes already?" scoffed a weasel nearby.

"I have no problem causing trouble or helping our own," the wolf answered testily, "but we're not the ZPD."

"No one's saying we have to be the ZPD," sighed a coyote. "You want to help our own? This is a good way to do it. There are fourteen fellow predators who need help."

"We already risk our necks enough as it is!" snapped a lion, irritably tossing a paw toward the screen. "And none of these missing preds is a species that lives on the edge like we do. I mean, they're still preds, sure, but we don't owe as much to them."

"What about Otterton?" the same weasel from before interjected. "Remember, he's missing, too."

"I think most of us would stick our necks out at least a little for Otterton," admitted another wolf. "I mean, come on—it's Otterton. We all like him. But going out of our way to search for him and the other predators? That just sounds unnecessarily risky. Not to mention it would take time away from our other operations, and I don't know about everyone else, but I'm barely keeping my life together as it is."

"So what you're all saying," huffed the same coyote from earlier, "is that you only want to help our own as long as they're not too different, or as long as it's _convenient_ for you."

"What are you trying to say?" snarled the wolf who had first voiced his doubt.

"You _know_ what I'm saying," returned the coyote, turning to fully face the wolf. "I'm saying you're a _coward_."

"I'd clamp my little mouth shut with a _wire_ if I were you," growled the wolf.

Hurriedly, Nick motioned for Duke to turn off the projector as he waved his paws placatingly over the gathering. "Okay, I can see that this subject has a hit a sore spot for some of you, so let's—"

But the coyote was already rounding on the wolf. Despite being smaller, he boldly shoved the wolf before him, who promptly shoved back. The coyote fell against a fox, who elbowed him off as one of the coyote's friends attempted to deliver a splendid left hook at the wolf.

It didn't take long for the previously collected atmosphere to devolve into one of chaos as mammals pushed, hit, and kicked each other. Pinching his nose, Nick considered joining if only to try to strongarm them into ceasing their childishness, but he knew his meager formal training would only do so much good in a free-for-all melee.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick spotted Big whispering something to the polar bear standing stoically next to him. Just as the bear was straightening up and opening his formidable jaws—likely to bellow at everyone at settle down—a single crash resounded throughout the room. But it wasn't the crash that instantly snagged everyone's attention.

It was the yelp of surprise.

There were some females in the Den of Thieves, but like all the males, they used distorters to conceal their voices. This feminine voice was unchanged by technology. It was small but high-pitched.

And Nick realized with a plummeting stomach that it sounded all too familiar.

"What's a bunny doing here?!" exclaimed a lion as Nick leaped into the crowd and started pushing his way toward the source of the noise.

"It's the bunny vigilante from the news!" cried a hyena, and Nick tried to move faster.

As irate voices continued demanding to know why she was there, Nick stumbled his way between a couple of mammals and finally laid his eyes on Crossfire. Ears hanging and shoulders hunched as she swiveled her head quickly around, she was seated on a toppled food cart, surrounded by ruined slices of cake.

Big's voice was suddenly on the stage behind him. "That bunny vigilante has meddled in our operations and seems intent on continuing to do so. We thought that she had been caught by the ZPD, but apparently, that is not the case."

Nick ignored the glare that he could feel being drilled into his spine.

"Don't let her leave," Big commanded with that baffling casual charisma of his. "We'll need to… deal with her."

Eyes flicking rapidly around, Nick watched as several of the mammals started to lunge toward Crossfire. She dashed away from their grasps only to bump gracelessly into a hulking bear who stepped into her path. The bear reached toward her.

Before he was fully aware of his actions, Nick rushed forward and grabbed the bunny's paw, yanking her back to the food cart and close to his side.

"Hold on, let's not get carried away!" he shouted over the din of throaty, frustrated noises. "There's no need for—"

"Out of the way, fox!" demanded a tiger who towered over him and had no qualms about brandishing his claws. Nick flinched at the sight but didn't move.

Instead, he opened his mouth, hoping that something brilliant would come out.

However, it was another shrill female voice that saved the day.

"I _demand_ that you stop this _at once_!" it screeched. "That bunny saved my life!"

Blinking, Nick glanced around until he saw Fru Fru, Big's feisty daughter, standing with her little fists clenched in front of the very polar bear who had thwarted Crossfire's escape attempt a moment ago. A sapphire-blue dress was wrapped around her little body; whatever she had been doing, she hadn't initially intended to be part of this meeting. She glared first at the surrounding mammals, then turned it toward her father on the stage.

Her father paused before pointing at Crossfire. " _This_ bunny?"

"Yes, _that_ bunny, Daddy," Fru Fru replied as she rolled her eyes. "Don't you _ever_ watch Ewetube?"

Big turned toward the polar bear nearest him, his bushy eyebrows crinkled together like one big shrub. "What is she talking about?" he murmured.

Clicking her tongue exasperatedly, Fru Fru marched toward the stage. Upon reaching the steps, which were too tall for her, she regally lifted her chin and held out her paw as though she were waiting for someone to kiss her rings. In a moment, a polar bear positioned one of his thick fingers underneath it, allowing her to keep her balance while she stepped into the palm of his other paw with all the grace of a fairytale princess.

Once upon the stage, she trotted toward the podium and waited with graceful patience for another bear to lift her on top of it. Then, she whipped out her tiny phone and showed it to her father. The curious silence throughout the room was only slightly broken by the faint sounds of the video displaying Crossfire's altercation with the rhinos at the bar.

At length, Fru Fru put her phone away and then folded her arms, staring expectantly at her father. He fixed Crossfire with a hard, contemplative gaze.

Then he smiled. A little.

"You have done me a great service," he drawled, spreading his palms amiably. "I shall take your kindness and pay it forward. Let her go."

The polar bear next to him turned a flabbergasted expression toward him. "But Boss—"

"This _one_ time," Big interrupted. "She will be spared this one time. Let her go."

This was apparently good enough for Fru Fru. She wordlessly demanded to be taken down from the podium, and the nearest polar bear obliged. Skittering between the stunned and surly predators, she came to stand before Nick and Crossfire with a pleased grin on her face and extended her paw to the bunny.

"Hey, I don't think I ever properly introduced myself before," she said. "I'm Fru Fru, Mr. Big's daughter."

"Crossfire," the bunny introduced herself in return. "I love your dress."

"Oh, thank you!" Fru Fru squealed, shyly swishing her skirt back and forth.

"Hustler!" Big called out, and Nick jumped to attention. "Show the bunny out. Make _sure_ that she leaves."

Nick swallowed. "Of course, sir."

It was only then that he realized he was still holding tightly to her paw. He could barely make out her eyes narrowing at him behind her mask, and he quickly snatched his paw away.

"Well, follow me," he said as he stepped toward the mammals who had remained standing around them. This time, they parted without a fuss, although Nick felt certain that he could see them scowling behind their masks.

He led Crossfire through the labyrinth of hallways, nodding gratefully at the polar bear attending the front door as they passed through its threshold. Once outside, he crossed his arms tightly over his chest and leaned against the iron railing of the porch steps. For a second, he watched the bunny continue walking away without even sparing him a glance.

"I see that you've given absolutely no thought to anything that I've told you," he said. "How did you escape the police anyway?"

She turned on her heel and stared for a moment. "Maybe you're not the only one with friends in high places, Hustler. And I did give it thought. I just realized that you were wrong," she answered, but Nick caught the smidgen of hesitance in her voice. Then she set a fist on her hips as she regarded him thoughtfully. "But what about you? Who are _you_ protecting?"

Nick straightened and let his fists fall to his sides. "What do you mean, who am _I_ protecting? Didn't you see all that? I'm protecting the predators who constantly get the short end of the stick in this society! I'm protecting my pack!"

"Your pack?" Crossfire scoffed. "You're nothing like them! You're better than them!"

A beat passed.

"Better?" Nick repeated, genuinely surprised by the remark.

Crossfire sighed and shook her head slowly at the snowy ground. "All I know is that you were the only one in there who saw me as a living being and not just a pest to exterminate," she said softly. "Well, besides Fru Fru."

With a shrug, Nick replied, "Yeah, Fru Fru's not so bad."

"Hey, look at us," Crossfire said, a smirk in her tone. "We finally agree on something."

Electing to ignore that observation, Nick pinched his nose for a moment as he considered his words.

"You eavesdropped on our meeting, right?" he finally asked, continuing when he saw her nod. "So you know what we're doing for other mammals. You know we're trying to do good. So why don't you at least leave _us_ alone, even if you insist on beating up other criminals to your heart's content?"

"That's not what _I_ see in there," the bunny retorted, gesturing irritably at the mansion. "I see a bunch of thieves and would-be murderers who are angry about their lots in life and are using it as an excuse to take what they want, even if it hurts someone else." She paused. "Even if… if it means killing someone like me."

Nick kicked idly at a pebble, ruminating. "What if other mammals _deserve_ to be hurt?"

"Maybe it shouldn't be about what they deserve, but what they _need_."

"You don't think the authorities of this city _need_ to be knocked down a few pegs?"

It took a moment for Crossfire to respond. "I think that they need to be treated like reasonable mammals who are capable of change before you just pass judgment on them and start destroying their lives."

They fell into silence. Then Nick chuckled humorlessly.

"A lot of these points are moot as long as we're both trying to take the law into our own paws, you know," he pointed out before huffing resignedly. "Look, we both know this isn't changing anything. I'll keep going after those who wield and abuse disproportionate amounts of power, and you'll keep… I don't know, kicking people who just commit random crimes, no matter what they are."

Crossfire sighed again. Nick couldn't tell if it was a frustrated sigh or a thoughtful one. Maybe both.

"Whatever you think of it, that _is_ my pack in there," he told her. "It's not perfect, but I'm going to protect it." For a few seconds, he just stared at her, taking in the discouraged slope of her shoulders. "Now please get out of here before I have to make you."

She seemed to hesitate, but just before he could repeat himself, she pivoted and dashed away with a swiftness that only a bunny could muster. Nick watched her sprint into the shadows and quickly lost sight of her.

Alone in the darkness, Nick once again felt the cold seeping through his outfit and into his bones. It wasn't just because of the weather.

And once again, the color violet filled his thoughts. He let out a yearning breath through his nose.

Was it time to go home yet?

He had a very important movie night to attend.

* * *

 **A/N: Next week's update _miiiiight_ be a bit late because I still need to tweak the chapter a bit, but I've got a stupidly busy week ahead of me. Rest assured, though, that I will do my utmost to have the next chapter ready in time. :)**


	7. The Event of the Season

**Chapter 7—The Event of the Season**

 **A/N: I know, I know. This update is** _ **ludicrously**_ **late. Life has been kicking me around with far greater ferocity than I had anticipated when I last posted.**

 **However, I fully intend to get back to a regular updating schedule. It might be every** _ **other**_ **weekend instead of** _ **every**_ **weekend, or maybe even just once a month (I have a lot of things going on, sorry!), but at least it would be regular. In the meantime, I hope that you can forgive me and enjoy this chapter.**

 **Also, I will catch up on all of the comments and reviews. I greatly appreciate hearing from you. :)**

 **Many thanks to Camoss and The StarsShadow15 for looking over this so quickly when I abruptly and excitedly announced to them that I had finished it. Such kind beta readers. :) Read their stuff!**

 **Extra special thanks to Libious, who has done more for me in the past several months than could rightly be expected. :) Thanks for being my best friend, Libby. One of these days, I'll really earn it.**

 **If you haven't read his work, you definitely should! :D**

 **And without further ado…**

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 6:45 a.m._

* * *

The combination of shifting fur and the gray sunlight peeking through the window gently prodded Judy's eyes to flutter open. Blinking, she inhaled slowly through her nose and took stock of her surroundings. It was morning. Not too late in the morning—she wasn't running late for work, thank goodness. Her sleeping laptop was open on the coffee table, an empty popcorn bowl next to it. Yet again, she was on the couch. And yet again, Nick was there, too.

Last she remembered, they were watching the third episode of the first season of _The Office_ , which was more amusing than she'd anticipated. It was a refreshing way to end another long, nerve-wracking evening, and Nick had seemed equally grateful for the diversion. At some point, she had ended up curled against Nick's side, his arm slung over her shoulders. Then her consciousness had drifted away from her grasp. Now she saw that they had both fallen asleep and tipped over at some point. Her back was pressed up against the couch as her cheek rested on his collar bone and her paw on his chest. Her shoulder was still held in his arm, his breaths even and relaxed. For a minute, she just watched him dream.

But he wasn't really dreaming, apparently. He finally cracked the morning silence by mumbling groggily, "Are we going to make a habit out of this?"

Judy giggled softly. "We shouldn't, but it _is_ kind of nice. Did you sleep okay?"

"You mean besides having to listen to your snoring?" Nick quipped. "Sure."

Jaw falling indignantly open, Judy raised her head to glare at him. "I do _not_ snore."

"You _do_ snore," he insisted. "And you sound like an adorable, shy little tea kettle." He only flinched a little when Judy teasingly smacked his chest. With a tone somewhere between a chortle and a whine, he added, "Hey, this is an environment of welcoming, and you should just get the hell out of here, okay, Fluff?"

Giggling again, Judy retorted, "Oh, Nick, I'm sorry. I've always been your biggest flan."

Nick quietly laughed, its warmth enthralling to Judy's heart, which pumped faster for a moment. "That's _such_ a bad joke."

"That show is ridiculous, and I love it so far," Judy remarked with a grin, letting her eyes slide closed as she returned to snuggling with the fox.

"Knew you would," Nick murmured contentedly.

Silence settled over them as the temptation to doze won its battle against their minds. The victory lasted only until Judy's alarm started blaring at 7:00 a.m.

With a soft groan, Judy muttered, "Okay, time to get up, Nick."

"You first," he said as he swung his free arm over his eyes.

"Lazy fox."

"Energizer bunny."

Judy pushed herself off the couch with a chuckle and crawled around his legs to get to the floor. "Fine, I will continue being the responsible one in this friendship, since you simply can't be bothered."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Nick yawned and stretched, watching her blearily as she padded toward her bedroom.

She shook her head with a small grin. As she placed a paw on her doorknob, she cast one more glance over her shoulder at him and was gratified to catch him smirking with an unguarded warmth at her; he quickly looked away with a well-played casual nonchalance, but Judy knew what she had seen. And it made her grin wider.

Suppressing a delighted giggle, she let herself inside her bedroom, turned off the alarm, and flopped onto her bed, allowing herself a moment to stare contemplatively at the ceiling. Then she got up to retrieve her secret disposable phone from her closet and, as expected, saw one unanswered text from Assistant Mayor Bellwether.

" _So how'd it go? Give me allllll the juicy details lolz!_ " it read.

Despite questioning the assistant mayor's cheerful manner of addressing such a serious topic, Judy couldn't help letting out a huff of amusement. She rapidly tapped out a reply.

" _I got in and heard about some of the things that they're planning for the near future._ "

She was in the middle of typing an additional text when Bellwether's response arrived.

" _OMG Crossfire that's so great! Do you have evidence? If you do I can give it to chief bogo and he can plan a raid!"_

In just a few strokes, Judy finished her text, glancing at the carrot pen on her nightstand.

" _Yeah, I was just about to say that I caught some of the meeting in a recording. I'll bring it over to you as soon as I can._ "

Bellwether wrote back immediately.

" _Fantastic! You're the best Crossfire! Ok see ya real soon!_ "

A knock at the door caused Judy to jump, and she swallowed a gasp as her free paw flew against her chest.

"Carrots?" came a familiar voice from the other side.

It was Nick. She silently let out a relieved breath, although she shook her head at herself for imagining that it could have been anyone else. "Yeah?" she called out, glad that it sounded calmer than she felt.

"Did you want to shower first again?" Nick asked.

"Oh," Judy took another breath. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay," Nick replied. "I'll start breakfast, then."

Judy smiled fondly toward the door, despite knowing he couldn't see it. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"No problem," Nick answered, though she could tell by its distance that he was already in the kitchen.

In the silence that followed, Judy sighed softly to herself and glanced at her closet. Behind the door rested her alter ego's disguise. Was it possible that she could sneak it to the restaurant so that she could put it on immediately after her shift ended and begin investigating? Coming home would be such an inconvenience. But it would be difficult to hide it from Nick…

" _Let's just hope she doesn't get hurt._ "

Nick's words from when they watched her work as Crossfire on the department store televisions suddenly rang through Judy's head. She blinked and frowned as she stepped forward to open her closet and stare at the black costume.

"Wish I could tell him," she mumbled to herself. "But I can't, can I?"

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 4:41 p.m._

* * *

 _I can't convince them, can I?_

The previous night's meeting with the Den of Thieves ran through Nick's mind as he stabbed irritably at the scrambled eggs on the grill. Why had he thought he could even depend on those mammals in the first place? Otterton and those other missing predators—they represented an opportunity to make a real difference for everyone in the Den. Besides, after everything Otterton in particular had done—

With a suppressed growl, Nick pushed the eggs and bug burger patties around a little more roughly than necessary. There was nothing else to do but look into the matter himself, starting the second that he clocked out and could figure out an excuse to give Ju—

"Nick?"

Ear briefly twitching toward the sound of Judy's voice, Nick looked up to see the bunny peering at him over the service counter. He wasn't sure whether it was the lighting or his growing feelings that made her violet eyes seem especially brilliant, but either way, the sight was welcome. Not unlike the butter he casually tossed on the grill, his frustration melted as he met her gaze.

"May I help you, Carrots?" Nick replied with a smile that he barely noticed.

She handed him an order slip. "Table six has a nut allergy, so I wanted to make sure I gave this one to you personally."

In response, Nick accepted the slip and waved it lightly for a moment to indicate that he'd be careful with it. His eyes lowered to see how the food was coming along on the grill. After a moment, he realized that he hadn't heard Judy scamper away, and he looked up again to find her staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

 _Unreadable?_ Nick blinked. _I can read_ any _face…_

"Is something wrong, Carrots?" he queried, head tilting slightly as his spatula paw slowed to a pause.

Judy's lips parted slightly, her chest and shoulders rose, she balanced on her tiptoes, she took a small breath, and—

And then she relaxed and sent him a small smile. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, just got lost in thought."

With that, she turned and hurried away, though Nick noticed there was less bounce in her step than usual. His ears started to flatten against the back of his head before he stopped them, but he didn't remove her eyes from her retreating form until the pop of a grease bubble on a patty brought his attention back to the grill.

"I can't believe she actually lets you call her Carrots," Greg remarked beside him as he sliced the vegetables in preparation for the dinner rush.

Nick flicked a narrow-eyed glance toward him and his counter. " _I_ can't believe you've managed to make those diced tomatoes look so drunk."

"As if you could do better," Greg replied dryly.

Immediately, Nick set his spatula to the side and pulled a knife from the wooden block next to Greg's counter. He snatched up a tomato, held it firmly against the counter with one paw, and deftly cut the whole thing into a pile of perfect cubes. Then he tossed the knife into the sink and returned to the grill just in time to scoop the scrambled eggs onto a waiting plate before they got too brown.

Several seconds of silence passed among the mammals in the kitchen before Greg broke it.

"You okay today, Nick?" he asked. "You seem… kind of on edge."

"A bit," Nick shrugged without elaborating.

"Maybe we should call Judy back over here," Andy murmured from where he was seasoning an enormous pot of stew on the stove. "She always seems to cheer you right up, doesn't she?"

When he accentuated his comment with a smooching sound, Nick whipped his head sharply to fix him with a hard stare. To his satisfaction, the otter flinched a little, and Nick refrained from uttering any of the dozens of threats that popped into his mind.

The next time Judy approached to leave an order slip, Nick assumed an expression of total concentration toward the grill and carefully avoided looking up at her. He heard her linger for just a moment before walking away.

Then he pinched his nose and shook his head briefly at himself. _Get yourself under control, Wilde._

With a sigh, he focused on the grill again, absentmindedly pushing and turning around the sizzling foods. His thoughts were on his costume and a certain black jaguar in the Rainforest District.

The rest of his shift trudged past him. A few minutes after 5:00, he was mildly surprised to find that he had put himself on autopilot and couldn't remember falling into step next to Judy on their way home. He was _more_ surprised to turn his head to glance at her and see her staring up at him with worry lining her brows.

"What's on your mind, Nick?" she asked. "You seemed fine this morning, but now you're… tense."

The smile that Nick granted her wasn't entirely forced. Her genuine concern was touching. "I was just thinking about a friend who's been going through some trouble. Thought I might pay him a visit today."

"That's a nice thought," Judy smiled back. Her lips parted but didn't move in a moment of hesitation before she continued, and Nick told himself not to stare at them in the meantime. "I was actually thinking about doing something similar." Her eyelids fluttered as quickly as Nick's heart as she glanced downward and then back up at him. "But you want to have another movie night afterward?"

Nick hardly had to consider his answer. "Wouldn't miss it."

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 5:47 p.m._

* * *

"Huh, seems I missed him," Nick mumbled to himself as he knocked for the third time on Manchas's door. _So much for asking him about the last time he saw Otterton._

Scratching the back of his neck with a sigh, he turned to head back to the train station—and paused abruptly when the sight of tangled brown stems and green leaves caught his attention.

With a blink, he stepped forward and stared at the potted plant half-hanging out the window. After absorbing and pondering it, he turned narrowed eyes back onto the house. He wriggled the doorknob, but the door stayed shut. It only took a moment for him to make his next decision.

 _Sorry, Manchas,_ he thought dryly to himself as he positioned himself underneath the fraction of the windowsill not covered by the plant, jumped, and pulled himself up. _But I'm sure you'd understand_.

As soon as he landed and steadied himself on the floor, he surveyed the house, eyes widening. The potted plant that Nick noticed wasn't the only one that had been upturned; several of them were sprawled across the floor, dark soil and broken pieces of baked clay scattered around them. Furniture was in tatters. Cupboards hung open on single hinges, some splintered. A trail of viciously torn fruit trailed from the kitchen to the middle of the living room, and a few had been splattered against the walls. Huge claw marks were streaked across every hard surface. The lingering scent of jaguar told him that Manchas had been the only one here, as far as he could tell.

"Manchas," Nick whispered. "What happened to you?"

Silently, he wandered around the treehouse, instinctively raising himself on his toes even though he couldn't hear or smell any sign that he wasn't alone. A few minutes later, he realized that the claw marks on the floor led outside—out of the window through which he'd climbed.

Rather than bothering with the window again, Nick opted to simply open the front door, after which he studied the dock closely. Shaking his head, he wondered how he could've missed the scratch marks crisscrossing the wood. He followed them farther into the forest, ignoring the scheduled rain that started to pelt his fur as his eyes easily adjusted to the shadows beneath the canopy of leaves.

"Just keeps going on and on," he muttered to himself. "How far could he have—"

He realized he'd spoken too soon. The scratches abruptly stopped in the middle of a circular dock that branched out into several possible paths. Nick blinked in confusion, sniffing lightly for any hint as to where Manchas might have gone. There was nothing.

Brushing his claws around the fur on the back of his head, Nick turned himself around to get another look at the area. Almost absentmindedly, he glanced up, and the tiny gleam of glass caught his eye.

Finally, he smiled to himself.

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 6:58 p.m._

* * *

Frankly, the gravity of what Judy was doing was currently dwarfed by her astonishment that City Hall was even open on a Saturday. Such a thing would never happen in Bunnyburrow, but Zootopia was _enormous_. Big city mammals had to do things a little differently, it seemed.

Still, she hadn't been able to bring herself to go inside yet. Instead, she leaned against the wall of an alley just across the street, hidden by both the shadows and her Crossfire costume. In her paw, she stared at the carrot pen, wherein she'd recorded the meeting from the Den of Thieves. All she had to do was sneak through the vents until she found Bellwether's office—a simple enough task, since she'd taken the time to memorize the building's layout—and then go home to wait for Nick.

She shook her head suddenly. _Or I could do something_ besides _wait for Nick,_ she reminded herself. _Like… Like maybe…_

Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut, hung her head, and smiled sardonically at herself. _Who am I kidding? I just want to hang out with Nick._

When she opened her eyes again, they were greeted with the sight of orange plastic, ridges, and a small speaker. Once again, she gazed blankly at the carrot pen.

 _And the sooner I get this over with, the better_. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. _So what's stopping me?_

The question dredged up her own words to the Hustler, letting them chime through her mind. _"I think that they need to be treated like reasonable mammals who are capable of change before you just pass judgment on them and start destroying their lives."_

"But they tried to kill me," she mumbled tersely in response to herself. "They want to kill other mammals."

" _Whatever you think of it, that_ is _my pack in there._ "

The fox's distorted voice reverberated in Judy's memory. She froze.

A pack. A pack of marginalized mammals. Desperate mammals.

Lowering the pen to her side, she suddenly realized what was keeping her there. True, disgust surged through her heart at the thought of their actions, but there was another emotion there, too—something softer and warmer.

Before she could name it, though, the sound of an alarm shrieking from the City Hall building jolted her from her ruminations. Her ear twitched when it picked up a crackle from the police scanner on her hip. Even for her excellent hearing, the volume and proximity of the alarm made it difficult to decipher the words spoken by the harried officer on the other end of the device.

But when she heard something about a fox dressed in black in the assistant mayor's office, she propelled herself forward with hardly a second thought.

A few mammals nearby pointed at her, mouths agape, as she hurdled across the busy street and toward the doors of the building. She pulled on the handle with a grunt, confused for a moment when it didn't budge. Remembering that the government buildings would automatically lock all their doors and windows when they were trying to keep a criminal from escaping, she clicked her tongue impatiently and headed for the nearest vent.

After several minutes of army-crawling through the dust of the ventilation shafts and willing herself to remain sane despite feeling like the shrill tone of the alarm was closing in around her, Judy managed to turn herself around enough to kick open the vent that she was sure would let her drop into Bellwether's office. It took a couple of tries, but it finally came loose and went crashing to the—

" _Ow!_ "

Judy's heart clambered to her throat. Slowly, and with her reddening cheeks blessedly hidden beneath her costume, she once again contorted herself around to peek out of the square-shaped hole where the vent had been. There, she found the Hustler, standing in front of a computer and irritably rubbing the back of his head while glaring at her through his colored goggles.

"Sorry," she grimaced before she could stop herself.

With a sigh and shake of his head, the Hustler focused his attention on the computer, typing at a rapid speed. "Figures. What are you doing here?" his voice grumbled metallically.

"I was in the area and heard on the police scanner that there was a disturbance," Judy replied in her deeper tone and farmer's accent as she jumped from the ventilation shaft to the floor. As she crouched to soften her landing, she paused to blink at him. "Wait, I don't owe you an explanation! Why are you causing trouble here?"

She could almost see the infuriating smirk as the Hustler turned his head toward her. "Well, look at that," he said, tone drenched with sarcastic amusement. "Trying to get to know a mammal before beating them up. That, my dear bunny, is what we call _character development_."

"Har, har," Judy mocked him in return as she propped her paws on her hips. "At least you admit that I can beat you up. Why don't you give me a good reason not to?"

"Well, my fellow vigilante—"

"You're a criminal, not a vigilante."

"A criminal with a specific agenda. A vigilante."

"No, you're _not,_ we are _not_ —"

" _Anyway_ , my fellow vigilante, I'm actually trying to find out what happened to a friend of mine," the Hustler explained calmly but assertively, pressing on one last key with a flourish and then watching as the screen in front of him zeroed in on a circular dock in the Rainforest District.

Judy approached to stand at his side, studying the screen curiously. "A friend? What do you mean?"

It took a moment for the Hustler to decide to answer. "Since you were poking your little bunny nose into the Den's business last night, I'm sure you heard that some of us are concerned about all the missing predators lately. I went to visit someone today who might have known something about them, but he wasn't there. I followed his tracks here, but they disappeared, so now…"

To finish his thought, he simply gestured at the screen. Looking closer, Judy noticed the claw marks on the dock and gasped.

"So you're checking out the jam cams? That's… actually really smart."

The words had left her mouth before she could ponder the implications of encouraging a criminal in his work, but there was something charming about the way his eyes crinkled to indicate that he was smiling underneath his mask when he looked down at her.

"Listening to police scanners and riding on the coattails of someone else's quick thinking?" he said, leaning forward slightly, almost conspiratorially. "You know, I think you might actually make a pretty good hustler."

Despite herself, Judy laughed. "Ugh, how dare you."

The sound of shouts made both their ears swivel in the direction of the door, which she only then observed was locked _and_ had a chair positioned against the handle to keep it from turning. The shouts on the other side grew steadily louder.

"The police," she breathed. A higher-pitched voice urgently mingled with theirs. "And Bellwether." She glanced at the fox. "Did you steal her clearance to get access to the jam cams?"

But the Hustler wasn't allowing himself to be distracted. He was already clicking on the mouse to rewind the camera footage. After just a few seconds, Judy gasped upon seeing a writhing, snarling jaguar rush onto the screen. His nostrils flared wildly when it seemed that he caught a whiff of something. Then a pair of wolves crept into view, approaching from either side, aiming at him with guns that Judy vaguely remembered seeing somewhere before. The jaguar jerked around between them, as though not sure which threat to destroy first. When a net burst out of one of the guns, Judy realized where she'd seen one—the Hustler had used one on her not too long ago.

The memory instantly refilled her with the rage, dread, and humiliation that had engulfed her at the time. Fists suddenly clenching, she whirled toward the fox.

"Hustler!" she hissed at him, but he didn't acknowledge her. "It's nice that you're concerned about the missing mammals, but I still—"

" _Shush_ ," the Hustler commanded, placing a finger over her mouth while keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the computer screen.

Fuming, Judy slapped the finger away. "If you _ever_ do that again, I _swear_ I will—"

With one frustrated movement, the Hustler jabbed a key to make the video pause as he turned toward her. "Hate to keep interrupting, I know it's rude, but I really need you to let me concentrate here, little bunny. This is more important than your sweet little all-crime-is-equal philosophy."

"I never said that all crime is equal!" Judy nearly squealed her indignation. "I'm just trying to make the city safer for everyone! And don't you think I'm concerned about the missing mammals, too?"

"Are you?" the Hustler replied curtly. "Because I know that all you're thinking about right now is how to keep me here to get caught."

"How did you even get in here with Bellwether's clearance?" Judy demanded, then suddenly stiffened. "Did you hurt her?"

The question seemed to offend the fox more than anything else she had ever said. Judy almost recoiled guiltily when his shoulders straightened as he narrowed his eyes at her. His tone was shockingly cold. "No. I didn't." Suddenly, he crossed his arms and went on accusingly. "But for someone who's so concerned about a little old criminal like me going around and hurting mammals, you sure love hurting them yourself."

"I—I don't—" Judy's mind stumbled as her mind woefully agreed with his observation of her double standard. She took a breath. "I don't _love_ hurting mammals. I want to protect them."

"So do I," the Hustler said tersely. After a moment, he softened his stance, briefly sweeping his eyes from the top of her ears toward her toes. "Look, maybe we don't agree about each other's methods, but we do agree about protecting those who need it. Why don't we call a truce?" He extended a paw toward her. "Help me find the missing mammals. What do you say?"

Judy stared dumbly at his paw for a few seconds before pounding at the door provoked her to jump to her side. Her hip collided with the desk; losing her balance, she flailed in the air and grabbed the fox's paw, desperately pulling him toward her.

Only when her mind cleared away its panic a moment later did she realize that she had yanked the fox into a hug with her, her cheek pressed against his chest.

His deep, throaty chuckle charged her blood with both rage and… something like lightning. A thrill?

"I'll take that as a yes," the Hustler said, then gently laid his paws on her shoulders and pushed her away from him. "But that's enough hugging, okay?" He gestured toward the computer. "How about we watch the rest of this footage before they break the door down and then get out of here?"

"I…" Judy glanced away for a moment. "But I haven't _actually_ said yes."

The fox tilted his head at her. "Well, you're not going to say no at this point, are you? I mean, we've bonded and everything."

Bellwether's screeching voice startled Judy again, though she managed to stand her ground. "If you think you're going to win this fight, Hustler, you'd better think again!"

She turned her attention back to the Hustler when he grabbed her shoulders, urgency in his voice.

"Look, we really don't have time to think about this," he said. "Truce or no?"

Locking her gaze with his, a single thought flashed through Judy's mind—how terrible it would feel to see that fox's eyes staring at her from behind bars. Abruptly, she realized that her decision had already been made. It was an appalling offense against her sense of reason and morality, but…

 _He's right. We're not really_ that _different._

"I can hardly believe I'm saying this," she sighed. "But I'll do you one better than a truce. We'll be a _team_."

Again, the Hustler's eyes creased, and Judy knew he was smiling.

But he didn't waste any more time with words. He quickly pivoted and pressed a key to play the footage again, fast-forwarding it as the pounding on the door intensified. Judy flinched when she heard the doorframe splinter around the latch, but she tried to focus on the computer. The wolves had loaded the jaguar into a van and were driving through the Zootopia tunnels. The Hustler expertly followed them by switching from camera to camera. Strangely, however, after entering one tunnel, the van didn't reappear out of it.

"Wait, what?" Judy exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen. "Where did they go?"

"Probably the maintenance tunnel 6B," the Hustler said as he made a few clicks to view the footage from a different camera. "No one uses it, hardly anybody knows about it—yep, yep, there they are."

Judy followed his pointing finger to watch the van turn into the very tunnel that the fox had mentioned. She tilted her head. "Huh. What a detective you are."

The Hustler shrugged. "Any mammal who's lived on the streets would have known about it."

His comment sent ice crawling into Judy's heart. She glanced at him slowly. "You mean you've—"

"Look where they're heading," the fox interjected, and Judy looked back at the screen with a sigh. "Out of town. I've never been out there before, but hey, I'm up for a little adventure." He switched the computer off and winked at her. "Are you?"

There was no time for Judy to ask herself why she was blushing now. The doorframe was loosening more with every blow from the officers on the other side. There's no way it would hold much longer.

She nodded at the fox and answered confidently. "Always."

He nodded back as he swept past her and toward the vent. "So let's get out of here."

Spurred by a surge of excitement, Judy grinned, leaped up, kicked herself against the wall above the Hustler's head, and landed squarely inside the vent. Judging by the Hustler's stunned stance, he was both surprised and impressed, a fact that drew an immensely pleased grin onto her face. She lay on her stomach and reached her paw toward him.

Shaking his head, he grabbed it and managed to scramble up into the vent with her help.

They had already cleared a dozen feet before they heard the door slam to the floor, hinges and latch clattering. The frustrated sounds of the police and Bellwether herself echoed around the walls of the vent. The bunny and the fox allowed themselves a quiet laugh together as they made their way toward daylight.

* * *

 **Special thanks to my husband for the line about snoring like an "adorable, shy little tea kettle," because he told me once that that's what** _ **I**_ **do.**

 **We are still married.**

 **Also, for anyone who doesn't know, the lines "This is an environment of welcoming, and you should just get the hell out of here" and "I've always been your biggest flan" are both from** _ **The Office**_ **.**


	8. Except for You and Me

**Chapter 8—Except for You and Me**

 **A/N: Yes, I know, I know, I'm really sorry about another long pause. I've been wrestling with depression and some life changes.**

 **However, I recently got a new job and have been finding ways of managing the depression better, so I'm not having so much trouble motivating myself to be creative now. I plan to hold on to my mental stability as long as possible. ;)**

 **In fact, chapter nine is already well under way! :D**

 **For now, please enjoy this one.**

 **Also, many,** _ **many**_ **thanks to Camoss, The StarShadow15, and Libious for looking over it at the last minute and offering extremely helpful suggestions so that I could confidently post it tonight. They are all so very wonderful, and everyone would be better people by conversing with them.**

 **Oh, and as a reminder, this story is also posted on AO3 with song lyrics at the beginning of each chapter because this website persists in being nonsensical.**

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 8:43 p.m._

* * *

"You're insane."

"No, you're just scared."

"I have a _good reason_ to be scared. Those are _wolves_ , bunny."

"So?"

"Wolves are fast. They have sharp teeth and claws and excellent night vision. They also have a strong incentive to use all those things against anyone who might cost them a paycheck—like two careless vigilantes."

"You're not a vigilante."

"Do you seriously want to have that discussion again?"

"No, I want you to listen to me."

"But you're _insane_."

"And _you_ are _scared_."

With an exasperated sigh, Nick turned away from Crossfire to peer over the boulder they were using for shelter so that he could scrutinize the wolf guards standing attentively in front of the Cliffside Asylum.

"There are too many of them," he said.

"You had no problem storming a _police station_ ," Crossfire countered.

"At _night_ , when there are fewer officers around," Nick replied. "And they tend to take several steps to deescalate a situation before they attack—I wouldn't make the same bet about these guys."

"It was downright suicidal."

Nick decided not to chase _that_ train of thought. He simply sighed, "This is too risky."

Beside him, Crossfire shook her head insistently as she slipped a spray bottle out of her utility belt. She waved it smugly at him.

He leaned forward to read the sloppily written print out loud. "' _Citrus Spray_ '?" Although he knew she couldn't see it, he raised his brows at her. "Good, at least they'll have something to freshen the air with after they've relieved us of our intestines."

Behind the orange mask, Crossfire rolled her eyes before wordlessly lifting the bottle until the nozzle peeked over the boulder. Then she pressed her finger on the trigger for several seconds. The citrus spray hissed its way out of the bottle and toward the asylum.

Not long after she had returned the bottle to its place on her belt, Nick's ear twitched at the sound of the wolves gagging and coughing. It gradually grew distant as it became apparent that the wolves were clearing the area, hacking desperately.

It was a clever trick, Nick had to admit, as he suddenly recalled something he heard once about canines being unable to handle anything related to citrus. Part of him was inclined to feel impressed. But his eyes wouldn't leave the pocket on Crossfire's belt where he now knew the spray bottle rested. Within his chest, he was aware of a twinge of unease and… anger.

Still, he kept it out of his voice when he spoke. "Interesting, but they're definitely not going to think that a citrus cloud descended on them out of nowhere. They'll know somebody's here."

"We'd better be quick, then," Crossfire shrugged.

With that, she turned and leapt over the boulder in one impressively swift movement. By the time Nick had clambered over it, she had already sprinted several paces across the ground. He hurried after her, nose wriggling slightly as it passed through the lingering citrus mist.

Crossfire was already fiddling with the front doors when he came up behind her. Heart pounding anxiously as his ears remained stiffly alert for any sign that the wolves were returning, Nick elbowed her out of the way with a small grunt. He then fished a lockpick from one of his pockets and made quick work of the door, opening it just enough to allow them both to slide through.

They took only half a second to observe the dark foyer, making sure there were no large, infuriated mammals ready to charge at them before scurrying silently into a shadowed corner. Then, slightly breathless, they gave themselves a little time to look around more closely.

From what Nick could tell, a thin layer of dust coated nearly every surface, and the furniture was shrouded in plastic coverings. A stopped clock on the opposite wall gave the room an eerily timeless feeling. He nodded to himself when he noticed the decade-old computers on the reception desk.

"No wonder they only had that one lock on the door," Nick whispered lowly, close to the bunny's ears. "It looks like it's been abandoned for years."

Crossfire hummed her agreement. "But there must be a reason why an entourage of wolves is guarding it." Suddenly, her shoulders straightened. "Speaking of which, I can hear them heading back to their posts. Let's go before they decide to come inside." She paused. "Can you see another door?"

In response, Nick lightly touched her shoulder to turn her toward the door that he saw under the clock. "Straight ahead."

Judy took a few hesitant steps forward. Nick's paws hovered above her uncertainly for a moment, but before he could really think it through, his mind made the decision to gently take hold of her wrist and lead her along. Part of him wondered if he could get away with intertwining their fingers while he was at it, but another part of him pointed out that the only reason he wanted to do it was because there was _another_ bunny on his mind, and the vigilante was no substitute for her, same species or no.

His heart lurched as his cheeks warmed. It occurred to him that he had no idea when he and Crossfire would be finished with this little mission. Would Judy already be asleep by the time he'd get home? Would she be upset with him for missing their movie night? It had already been a few hours since he told her that he was just going to visit a friend… Was she… Was she _worried_ about him?

 _That_ thought—the thought that she might care enough to worry—swarmed his chest with both warmth and… guilt.

Once he had successfully led Crossfire to the door and opened it to let her inside, he couldn't resist reaching in his back pocket for his cell phone, which he'd left on silent. Although the darkness would have obscured it from the bunny's eyes, he also mentally congratulated himself for giving in to his paranoia by getting into the habit of switching the phone case to a different one whenever he was out on missions—just in case. He tapped one of the buttons on the side to light up the screen—and had to stem the disappointment that trickled through his heart when he saw exactly zero text messages or missed calls from his roommate.

"What are you doing?" Crossfire whispered with a touch of irritation.

Nick stared at her, unsure how to answer, but only for a moment. Fortunately, the hallway into which he and Crossfire had stepped was even darker than the foyer, so it was easy to come up with an excuse.

"Just figured you could use a flashlight in here," he said smoothly as he unlocked the phone and pulled up the flashlight app, "since you're a prey and all."

She paused. "Oh. That's… very thoughtful of you."

"I have thoughts quite frequently, yes," Nick replied as he shined the flashlight app down the hallway and indicated the dozen or so doors that lined the hallway. "So how about we keep trying random doors until we find something interesting?"

With a nod, Crossfire led the way.

It took several additional minutes of experimental wandering before the pair were stopped short by the distinct sound of a vicious growl coming from behind a door that they were passing in an especially long and wide corridor. Glancing wordlessly at each other, they tiptoed toward it, and Crossfire silently turned the handle so that they could both peek inside.

At first, even Nick couldn't see much. But once his eyes adjusted to the dim light source, he glanced at the floor—and froze.

He must have stiffened enough for Crossfire to feel it from her position next to him, because she hissed, "What? Do you see something?"

"Claw marks," he muttered. " _Huge_ claw marks."

The bunny absorbed this news quietly for a moment. "I'm going inside."

She padded confidently into the room, as if she wasn't stepping on claw marks that were longer than she was tall. Suppressing a sigh burdened with second thoughts, Nick took a few seconds to steel himself before following her, eyeing the marks warily.

Another growl—closer this time—blew ice through his blood. As he blinked around to check on where Crossfire had gone, he found himself face to black feline face.

In the space of a second, Nick experienced relief to see the familiar lines, creases, textures, and colors of Manchas' face—and then the instinctive alarm bells that banged urgently in his head at the sight of the sharp teeth and bloodthirsty eyes.

He leapt back with a yelp, and Crossfire scrambled out of the shadows to keep him from falling over. "Who is that?!" she exclaimed.

"Manchas," Nick blurted. "That's Manchas." Despite having seen the savagery on camera, there was something soul-sinking about witnessing it in the flesh. Letting out a horrified sigh, Nick peered closer at the jaguar. "What _happened_ to you?"

After allowing a few respectful seconds to crawl silently between them, Crossfire said gently, "I think there are more over here."

A little numbly, Nick followed her farther down a hallway lined with cells separated from the rest of the world by thick glass. At least a dozen savage mammals glared or snarled back at them as they walked slowly past. His stomach dripped further to his feet with each step. He tried to imagine such a fate, knowing that these mammals had once been sentient…

The flashlight flickered across another familiar face, and Nick found himself rushing toward it, paws pressing against the glass.

"Otterton!" he said.

Crossfire was immediately at his side, staring intently at the otter. "Otterton?" she repeated. "He's the missing otter from the Den of Thieves, right?"

Nick could only nod as he tried to absorb the reality of what he saw before him. Otterton's normally kindly crinkled eyes gazed at him with an unnervingly blank ferocity, an eerily impersonal loathing that he rarely encountered in sentient mammals. In his current state of mind, Otterton didn't hate consciously; he hated because he couldn't feel anything else. Or so it seemed with all these mammals.

To see such an expression on the face of someone who had once been a friend… It was…

A light touch on his arm caused Nick to blink away the rest of his thoughts.

"Hustler?" Crossfire intoned softly. "Are you okay?"

He glanced briefly at the concern in her eyes before gently tugging his arm away from her fingers.

"Otterton was the only mammal everyone in the pack could get along with," he found himself saying. "He took care of all of us. Didn't matter who we were or what we'd done. He treated us like we had a future." He sighed as the otter hissed at him. "So I wanted to bring him back, but… I can't. Not when he's like this."

"Then what will you tell everyone?" Crossfire asked.

"I don't know that it matters," Nick replied with a shrug, expression stony. "You heard them. A lot of them don't even want to look for him. I'm not sure they really care."

The bunny refocused her attention on the otter. "But I bet his family does." Her tone hardened. "We need to tell _someone_."

Nick couldn't conceal the impatience from his sigh. "Who? The police won't do anything, and you know it."

"We have to try," Crossfire insisted as she pivoted and started marching back down the hallway and toward the door through which they had entered.

Wrestling between feelings of admiration toward her conviction and exasperation with her stubbornness, Nick didn't move as he watched her go. Then he noticed her lingering by the cell of a savage bobcat, who thrashed and clawed at the few threads of his clothes that were left. It seemed he had been there for a long time.

Crossfire's paw lifted slightly toward the bobcat and stopped when he caught her eye and froze. Before Nick could ask her whether she knew him, a thunderously deep voice rumbled from down an adjacent hallway.

" _Now I call that awfully far from doing everything_!" it was yelling.

In unison, Nick and Crossfire sprinted into a nearby empty cell. Slowly, they raised their heads just enough to peek over the glass and watch the unmistakable Mayor Lionheart stride inside with a stout badger doctor scurrying beside him.

"The only thing they all have in common," the badger was saying, a little breathlessly, "is that they're predators. We need to let the city know about this. _Everyone_ , prey and predators alike, are in danger until we figure out what's causing the savagery."

"They'll be in even _more_ danger if we tell them that it's only affecting predators," Lionheart retorted. "Have you considered what kind of panic that could cause? Have you considered what it could do to the credibility of my administration?" He roughly slapped his own chest with his enormous paws. " _I am a predator!_ How am I supposed to keep order— _or my job_ —if the entire city is too scared of me to listen to me?"

"What about Chief Bogo?" the badger replied. "You told me the assistant mayor told him to make the missing mammals case a top priority. You think he won't find them eventually? What will _that_ do to your administration?"

The mayor snorted. "You worry about the science. I'll worry about the politics."

The badger opened her mouth, but before any sound could leave it, all four of the sentient mammals jumped when the bobcat suddenly slammed himself against his cell. His tongue left a trail of frothing saliva on the glass, his crazed eyes locked on Crossfire directly across from him. Hurriedly, Nick ducked beneath the glass of the cell he shared with Crossfire, yanking her down with him—

But not before Mayor Lionheart's glowing eyes spotted them.

"Those vigilantes are here!" he exclaimed. Nick heard him take a heavy step toward the cell.

"No, no!" the badger cried. "I'll call security, but you need to leave. You can't be seen here."

The mayor and doctor rushed out of the room, locking the door behind them while calling for the guards. Without missing a beat, alarms blared as the room was blurred in alternating, urgent shades of yellow and red.

"Great! We're dead!" Nick barked, throwing his paws exasperatedly in the air. "I'm dead, you're dead, everybody's dead!"

But Crossfire wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, she was studying the gigantic toilet behind him. "Can you swim?" she asked.

Some minutes later, the fox and bunny pulled themselves exhaustedly from the river and collapsed on the bank. For a while, all they did was breathe heavily, but gradually, they wobbled to their feet and stared at the old asylum looming a safe distance away. The alarms were loud enough to hear even from there.

"So did you notice that the mayor himself referred to me as a vigilante?" Nick finally broke the silence, hoping Crossfire could hear his smirk.

But she wasn't in the mood for jokes, apparently. She whirled to face him, folding her arms.

"Zootopia deserves to know," she said.

And just like that, Nick's sense of humor evaporated. "Let's not get into an argument about what Zootopia _deserves_ ," he snarled.

"Excuse me?" Crossfire fired back.

"It's really easy for you to say, isn't it? No one's going to worry about a savage _bunny_ attack."

"What are you talking about? This concerns _all_ citizens of Zootopia!"

"Oh, _really_? Of course that's what you think! No,it's the _predators_ who will suffer here."

"That won't happen."

"Don't you dare pretend like you know that! You have no idea what we go through!" Nick snapped. Then he stepped forward and pointed an accusing finger at her utility belt. "Do you really think you're not just as bad as they are? Who carries around a spray bottle with a chemical meant to ward off specific predators? Scared prey, that's who!"

For a second, sincere hurt flash across the bunny's eyes behind the orange mask. "I try to be prepared for any danger!" she protested.

"Fox repellant, citrus spray," Nick plowed on, ignoring her. "You don't seem to invest in materials targeted at prey, do you? It's just the big, bad predators that you think are dangerous, right?" Despite his better judgement, his tone waxed in intensity. "Most of us predators are already treated like second-class citizens just for who we are! The majority of the population is prey, and they're constantly acting like they think we're still secretly primitive, bloodthirsty savages, and you want to risk _worsening_ that?"

"No, I—"

But Nick wouldn't be interrupted. "You essentially want to give them a reason to think that they're _right_?" He was nearly yelling now. "You can't have a secret on your conscience, but you can handle making life even _more_ miserable for marginalized predators _everywhere_?"

"Hustler, please—"

"No, this is a _perfect_ example of why I fight against this society!" Nick interjected, his paw cutting through the air with the same angry edge that now defined his voice. "Because we're treated like we're expendable for the greater good! Because we get hurt, but as long as the prey and the rich are okay, it doesn't matter! You say you want change, but from what I can see, all you're doing is keeping everything the _same_!"

The last word fell heavily on the rushing waves of the river. Nick's lungs heaved with the stress of keeping tears from spilling out of his eyes as he stared at Crossfire, who didn't move.

Only when Nick's breathing had returned to normal did Crossfire speak.

"We'll figure out how to deal with the fallout for the predators," she stated softly but firmly. Nick almost didn't hear it over the roar of the river. "But for now, we _have_ to tell the truth." She stepped closer to him. "Will you trust me?"

The question only reignited Nick's ire. "How can you ask me that when you're the one carrying a chemical meant to hurt me?"

A tense beat passed. Then Crossfire nodded decisively, ripped the fox repellant out of her belt, and threw it to the side, not bothering to see where it ended up. Her eyes remained on Nick, who listened with a frozen chest to the dull clang of the repellant as it landed on what he assumed was a rock somewhere.

He hoped he didn't look too awkward as he tried to fold his arms nonchalantly. "Okay, fine. We'll try it your way."

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 10:20 p.m._

* * *

It was with a quiet sense of mutual satisfaction that Judy knelt next to the Hustler behind the very boulder where they'd first hidden upon seeing the wolves guarding the old asylum. After calling in an anonymous tip, the police had arrived quickly, and the fox and bunny now watched as a pair of burly officers escorted the mayor to a squad car in pawcuffs. Judy's excellent hearing picked up snippets of conversation—the mayor furiously saying that Crossfire and the Hustler had been there and should get arrested, too, Chief Bogo ordering a couple spare officers to search for them, wolves lamenting that they should have sounded the alarm sooner but hadn't wanted to get in trouble for leaving their posts. One glance at the Hustler's perked ears told her that he was probably hearing the same things, though he had to strain a little harder than she did.

She couldn't help smiling a little.

Nudging him lightly, she said, "Looks like we actually make a great team, huh?"

The Hustler didn't respond, and Judy's happy mood rapidly deteriorated. Despite agreeing to contact the police, the fox's body language as Judy called in the tip spoke of hesitance and discomfort. She noticed that his shoulders were hunched now, and his tail was stiff.

"You're still not sure we did the right thing," she murmured.

It took a moment for the Hustler to reply. "Too late for second thoughts."

Not knowing how else to address the Hustler's concerns without repeating what she'd already said, Judy let silence fall between them again. At length, the Hustler turned to sit on the ground with his back to the boulder and look at his phone screen. He didn't unlock it, but he did spend a good amount of time simply staring at it, his shoulders sagging slightly.

It reminded Judy that she hadn't checked her own phone in a while. She discreetly slid it out of her belt, keeping it out of her companion's eyesight, and clicked the home button. Spam emails, texts from her family, a notification from an app, but nothing from Nick.

She let herself sigh as she returned her phone to her belt. It was late. He was probably angry at her for not being there for their movie night. How could she explain her absence to him?

Well, sticking around here any longer wouldn't help matters.

"I think our work here is done," she said to the Hustler. "Want to meet up later to talk about handling any potential fallout for the predators?"

The fox didn't look at her. After several seconds, he said quietly, "I don't know."

At this, Judy's heart plummeted to her toes. She reached out to lay her fingers on his arm again.

"Hey," she said, and continued when the Hustler didn't move, "I understand that you're worried, but I _promise_ we'll find a way to take care of everyone. I won't rest until we establish peace."

His electronically altered voice sounded tiredly amused when he huffed at her. "Then you'll never rest at all, bunny. Good thing you're so full of energy." Then he sighed. "But I'm not." He checked his phone again and didn't visibly react to whatever he saw there. "I'm ready to go home."

Nodding, Judy sat down next to him. "We should probably clear out before someone finds us anyway." She paused and barely managed to stop herself from fidgeting. "But seriously, do you want to meet up later, or…?"

She trailed off as the Hustler stood and dusted off his pants. "Maybe," he answered. "We'll see." He tossed her a single wave as he sauntered away without glancing back. "Thanks for the help, Crossfire. Stay safe."

It didn't take long for the shadows of the night to swallow him beyond what Judy's prey eyes could see. As quickly as their truce and partnership had developed, it suddenly seemed to collapse.

Judy let herself rest against the boulder for a few more minutes, absorbing the events of the evening.

She, a vigilante, had teamed up with a criminal.

She, an advocate for mammals' rights, had willingly set aside the concerns of a marginalized predator in the name of justice.

She, a farm bunny still getting used to a new way of life, had just found more than a dozen predators who appeared to be savage for no reason.

" _Keep looking for them!_ " Chief Bogo's distant voice slashed through her thoughts. " _They may still be here!_ "

And she, a wanted fugitive of the law, was being hunted by the very organization she hoped to join one day.

Well, she seemed to be doing a lot of things lately that didn't make any sense. Time to go and seek out the one part of her life that _did_ seem to make sense:

Nick.

In the space of a single breath, she hopped up and bolted away at a crouching run until she jumped onto the back of a passing truck as it slowed to turn a sharp curve in the highway.

After settling onto the huge bumper—she'd been lucky to catch another vehicle meant for much larger mammals—her heart leapt with relief when she saw a text message from her roommate.

" _Sorry I'm running late,_ " it said. " _Have you started without me_?"

Grinning, she tapped out a reply.

* * *

 _Day 6: Saturday, June 21_ _st_ _, 2016, 11:03 p.m._

* * *

" _I'm running late, too_ — _stuck in traffic_ ," Judy's text message read. " _Be there soon_!"

Nick couldn't help smiling to himself. Even such simple words from her felt like a drink of water in the desert.

By then, he had already hitched a ride in the back of the truck of a blissfully unaware elephant motorist, and he was now making use of a dim alley on a sleeping street to change into his regular clothes. After stuffing his black outfit into his backpack, he hurried home as fast as he could without appearing suspicious.

The apartment was dark, cold, and empty when he arrived; apparently, Judy was still held up. He stowed his backpack away in his closet before texting her again.

" _Hungry_?" he asked her.

" _Starving_!" she soon replied.

He checked the cupboards and fridge and settled on making vegetable stew with some chunks of chicken for himself. Nice and easy, low maintenance—perfect for this time of night.

And right when the vegetables started to soften, Nick heard the telltale click of the front door. He tossed a pinch of salt into the pot before peeking around the corner and letting his face melt into a warm smile when he saw his roommate smiling back at him, looking absolutely lovely in a knitted maroon sweater.

"Welcome back," he said.

Judy bounced up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug before he could say anything else—not that he could have formulated any coherent sentences at that moment.

"I missed you!" he heard Judy say.

Yep. Words gone. All gone. No more words.

All Nick could do in response was let his arms slide around her and grasp the fabric of her shirt for a moment. His body relaxed into the embrace, his muzzle resting on her shoulder.

"I missed you, too," he finally mustered.

Too soon—but it would have been too soon no matter when it happened—Judy pulled back and cast him one more bright smile before turning to examine the contents of the pot on the stove. "Stew?" she clarified.

Unable to tear his eyes away from her, Nick watched her waft the steam into her nose and sigh contentedly. "Yep," he managed to say around the squeeze in his throat.

"Thank you!" she said sweetly over her shoulder before finding two bowls and two spoons. As she set the table, she continued chattering. "I'm sorry I took so long. I told you I was visiting a friend, right? Yeah, and I was just helping them with some project, but it ended up taking a lot more time than we anticipated. Sorry, I should have kept in touch."

"It's okay," Nick shrugged as they both took their seats at the table. "My friend had a lot going on, too. I didn't even realize how late it was."

"Is your friend okay?" Judy inquired before lifting a spoonful of stew to her mouth.

Nodding, Nick took a bite of his own stew. "Yeah, they'll be fine. Well," he amended, "I really hope so."

Some minutes later, they stood at the sink, having settled into a pattern without breaking the light conversation they'd carried over from their meal; Judy washed the dishes, and Nick dried them.

But inevitably, there was a lull. And in that lull, Judy gazed thoughtfully at the dishwater.

"Nick," she suddenly said.

Then nothing else for a moment. Nick raised his brows at her. "Hmm?"

"What would you do if you could do anything at all?" she asked, turning her eyes to focus on him.

Nick blinked, his mind floundering confusedly. "Uh," he replied. He stared dumbly at the towel in his paw, but when he caught sight of Judy's patient smile, he tried again to find an answer. "I'm honestly not sure. No one has ever asked me that before. I mean, there aren't too many options available for foxes, as you know by now."

"Well, yeah, but…" Judy gestured distractedly with the sponge. "What if you weren't limited? What if being a fox didn't matter?"

Allowing himself a more seconds of thought still didn't bring to mind any answers for Nick, so he decided to evade the question with a new one. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Just wondering. I mean, I really think that you could do anything you want, Nick."

The deluge of surprise and soothing warmth that crashed through Nick's chest halted his movements immediately. He stared with wide eyes at the bunny, who apparently didn't notice.

"You just have to decide on a goal and then go after it," she continued with a one-shouldered shrug. "And we'll work hard at it. We'll force doors to open for you, and then we can open them up for other mammals. There's just no good reason why you can't be anything you want to be."

By then, Nick's mind had already snagged on the word "we."

 _We._

"Anyway, you should think about it—think about something you're passionate about, something you'd want to, you know, consecrate your life to," Judy finished. Once more, her radiant smile threatened to stop Nick's heart even while it seemed to revive him. "And then we can talk about how to make it happen."

 _We._

Having no idea how to respond but not wanting the silence to drag until it became uncomfortable, Nick turned to something easy and familiar—humor.

" _Consecrate_ my life to something," he repeated with a smirk. "Interesting word—consecrate. If I didn't know what it meant, I'd say it sounded like a crime." He waved the towel in the air. "Help, I need to file a police report! I've been consecrated!"

He observed Judy's fit of giggles with immense satisfaction. Then, grinning, Nick wet his paw and flicked droplets of water at her face. She gasped, drawing a delighted chuckle from him.

"Oh, you _messed up_ , Wilde!" Judy exclaimed as she scooped a cup into the dish water and threw it at his face. Nick's immediate response was to grab the sleeve of her sweater and dry his fur against it, provoking her to issue an indignant squeak.

Determined to get the best of him, Judy moved with all the swiftness her evolutionarily advantaged rabbit ancestors had granted to her. She filled the cup with more water, yanked the top of Nick's shirt toward her, and poured it all down his chest before he could properly react. He let out a yelp of surprise and jumped backward, mouth hanging open as his eyes bulged at her pleased, maniacal cackling.

"This is _war_ , rabbit!" he declared. As soon as he pulled up a mixing bowl that had sunk to the bottom of the sink, Judy squealed and ran away. He gave chase as quickly as he could without spilling the water.

Eventually, he managed to corner her in the bathroom, where she crouched in the tub near the faucet and held her paws defensively above her head, giggling madly as she waited for the inevitable. Nick stepped into the tub and approached her slowly, trying to look mildly intimidating even though he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

"Any last words, Fluff?" he asked. The bowl was poised above her, and her eyes were locked expectantly on it.

"Gazelle is the best singer in _all_ of Zootopia!" Judy yelled defiantly.

Nick gasped. "Oh, you _really_ have this coming," he said as he tipped his paw and watched the dirty dishwater drench her. She screamed and laughed, covering her head with her arms in a futile attempt to protect herself.

With a satisfied smirk, Nick rested his paws on his hips and leaned forward as he regarded her. "That'll teach you to mess with a fox, won't it?"

Judy quirked a self-confident eyebrow at him. "Or maybe it just teaches me to up my game a bit."

Before Nick could ask what she meant by that, she answered him by reaching toward the faucet and turning on the shower. Stumbling backward in surprise, Nick's head thumped against the tiled wall, and he slid down onto his rump. The water was rapidly drenching him, but Judy had already sprung out of the tub and sprinted out of the bathroom. He groaned in pain as he clutched the back of his head with his paws.

After only a few seconds passed, he heard Judy pad back to him and kneel beside him. She gently touched his paw, and he glanced at her sweetly concerned expression.

"Nick, are you okay?" she queried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Nick interrupted by snatching her into his arms and pulling her into the tub. She screeched as the water hit her back. Although they both burst out roaring in laughter, it gradually subsided as they looked at each other and realized their position. Judy's chest was pressed against Nick's, her arms around his waist and paws clasping the fabric of his shirt. Nick's arms held her tightly against him, initially to keep her from escaping, but now for a completely different and far more uncomfortable reason—he just didn't want to let go.

He knew he should—but not while her violet eyes were inches from his, and not while he could feel her light breaths against his muzzle.

Fortunately, she broke away from him, smiling sheepishly. "Clever fox," she said as she smoothed the wet fur on her face and ears and glanced away from him.

"Sly bunny," Nick replied with a smirk, hoping that he didn't look as mesmerized as he felt.

"Well," Judy turned to him with a dazzling smile. "We've made quite the mess. I guess we should start getting everything cleaned up."

Against all rationality, Nick gave in to the twinge of panicked sorrow that bit his chest when he watched her stand up, turn off the shower, and start walking out of the bathroom.

She was different. She was different from everyone else, and he couldn't… let…

He sighed inwardly.

He couldn't let go.

"Hey," he blurted.

Judy half-turned toward him, expression warm.

For a second, Nick didn't know what to say next. Then he grinned slyly.

"Remember when I asked you to pick green or brown, and you picked green?" He waited for her to nod. "Well, want to see the brown?"

* * *

 **A/N: For those who don't remember—and I definitely don't blame you if you don't—Judy had a bobcat co-worker at the diner who went missing. His name is Randol. He hasn't been brought up much, but his disappearance is the reason there was a job opening for Nick.**

 **Anyway, I've been trying to keep a balance between staying true to the elements of the movie and exploring the unique elements of this particular AU, but from here on out, things will diverge much more from the original story.**

 **See you all again soon, hopefully!**


	9. This Is It, Boys

**Chapter 9—This is It, Boys**

 **A/N: This chapter will start and end with fluff. You're welcome. Enjoy it while you can. :)**

 **It's also extra long (covering two whole days!) to mark the fact that we are about halfway through the story. YAY!**

 **While I'm still handling my depression much better than before, I must warn you—I've recently started working on a huge truckload of business management courses that I need to have finished within a certain time frame, and I'm freelancing on top of my full-time day job in order to save money for something very important to me. On top of that, I'm working on an original book and some music, which I** _ **also**_ **need to have finished by a certain time. Since I also want and need a social/family life, I can't guarantee that updates for this story will be as regular as I'd like them to be, but I can promise that I'll work on it every moment that I can. I love writing it and want to finish it as quickly as possible. Thank you so much for all your encouragement and support. :) If it helps, I've already started writing chapter ten!**

 **Once again,** _ **thank you so much**_ **to Camoss and Libious, both for their praise and suggestions for improvement for this chapter. You are such dears. :)**

 **Without further ado…**

* * *

 _D_ _ay 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 5:00 a.m._

* * *

Never mind the fact that he and Judy had been up past midnight cleaning up from their dirty dishwater fight; when the alarm clock started blaring at 5:00 a.m. sharp, Nick practically bounced out of bed.

They had to make it to the "brown" before sunrise.

Hurriedly, he threw on a sweatshirt and cargo pants. He left his bedroom just as Judy was closing her own door behind her, sporting a light pink hoodie, jeans, and small satchel. Despite the tiredness around her eyes, she smiled brightly at him—and Nick thought that he'd never seen anything lovelier.

"Good, you're awake!" he whispered in place of the flowery words with which he _wanted_ to shower her. Snatching a paper bag filled with bagels and cream cheese that he'd put together before they went to sleep, he grabbed the bunny's paw and started pulling her toward the door. "Come on, we have to go!"

Judy audibly yawned before responding amusedly, "Wow, Nick, I've never seen you so awake in the morning. And I definitely wouldn't have expected it on our day off."

"That's because there's no better reason to be awake than what I'm about to show you," he replied. "But we have to catch the bus."

Humming around another yawn, Judy nodded and let Nick continue to lead her out the door, down the stairs to the lobby, and out of the apartment building. Nick tried not to be too thrilled about the fact that Judy never pulled her paw away.

As the chilled morning air knocked into him, his body voted in favor of going back to his warm bed. But no, that wouldn't do. There was a bunny he needed to dazzle.

Both fox and bunny remained in comfortable silence on the journey to the nearest bus stop a few blocks away. Predictably, hardly anyone else was riding it this early, so they had no problem finding a window seat. Although he kept his warm smile in place, Nick felt a twinge of disappointment when Judy sat across from him rather than next to him. Still, after handing her a bagel and cream cheese from the paper bag, he appreciated that his vantage point allowed him ample opportunity to sneak looks at the adorable way that she curled her legs underneath her and watched the city glide past as though it were her favorite movie.

After a few stops, right before the bus would be due to leave Sahara Square, Nick lightly tapped her knee and nodded at the dunes outside the window. Judy followed him off the bus—and he fought to suppress a grin when she grabbed his paw again.

"I don't think I've seen this part of the district yet," she said as they ambled along the sidewalk.

"Perfect," Nick replied.

"Do you intend to fry us in the desert sun? Does the 'brown' refer to the color of the crisp we'll be reduced to once we're hot enough?"

Nick almost bit his tongue when his mind suggested a rather risky pun involving the word "hot." He settled with shooting the bunny a sardonically arched brow instead.

The sidewalk was getting steeper as it sloped upward. Nick glanced toward Judy to see whether the uphill walk wasn't tiring her out, but she appeared completely unfazed. Her eyes were fixed on the grayish sky, but they flicked to his when she noticed his staring. She cast him a kind but questioning smile.

"Just making sure you're okay," he explained.

At that, Judy's smile grew wider. "I'm more worried about _you._ You're practically an ancient relic, compared to me."

"Why, Fluff," Nick pressed his free paw over his heart in mock indignation. "Such soul-wounding words you utter. It's especially appalling that you would deign to be so hurtful when I'm about to show you _this_."

With that last word, they crested the top of the slope, and Nick was once again satisfied to hear the way that Judy gasped when she beheld the beauty before them. The sidewalk rounded itself into a lookout point with a bench set in the center. Beyond that, the rising sun threw streams of pale orange light along dunes that toppled across the landscape like golden waves frozen in time. The sides of the dunes that faced away from the sun were drenched in pools of shadow, and the contrast with the warm brown sand added an air of mystique to the scenery. Thanks to the sheer vastness of the landscape, and with little to no vegetation to hinder it, the sunlight stretched gloriously, appearing breathtakingly endless.

Judy slowly approached the bench and lowered herself onto it, her gaze never leaving the splendor of the desert sunrise.

"Some mammals think that brown is a boring color," Nick said quietly as he sat down beside her. "But they're wrong."

"Yes, they are," Judy breathed. "I never imagined that a desert could be so beautiful."

Nick only nodded, letting a reverent silence drift between them for a little while.

"I used to pass this place every day on my way home from work," he remarked.

"Lucky fox," Judy replied.

With a chuckle, Nick carefully avoided eye contact with her as he answered, "I guess I am, huh?"

After a moment, Judy scooted closer to him. "Nick?"

Taking a deep breath to keep his blush at bay, Nick turned his face toward hers. Their noses were only inches away from each other, and he found himself memorizing details in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before.

"Hm?" he hummed around his swelling heart.

"I think I'm a very lucky bunny," Judy said with sweet smile. "Thank you for letting me live with you."

Nick was going to respond, he really was, but Judy didn't wait. She nestled her head against his shoulder and continued observing the desert sunrise in companionable silence. Soon, she was breathing with the steady rhythm of a peaceful sleep.

"So much for my energizer bunny," Nick whispered as let his cheek rest on top of her head.

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 6:45 a.m._

* * *

Although Judy apologized profusely for falling asleep on Nick's shoulder, she couldn't deny to herself that she'd also been thrilled by the closeness he'd once again allowed between them. Once she'd lifted herself away from him, she immediately missed his warmth and scent—much in the same way that she imagined she'd miss her right paw if it ever got cut off. At least he genuinely hadn't seemed to mind.

And sitting next to him on the bus ride home was making her consider doing it again.

But he beat her to it. Only about a minute after the bus started moving, his head fell on top of hers, and she stifled a giggle as he snored.

She spent a little time checking her emails and social media accounts on her phone, though she kept glancing at her satchel. At last, telling herself that Nick was asleep and wouldn't notice, she quietly slipped her alter ego's phone from the inner pocket and opened it. Taking a deep breath to try to calm her hammering heart, she unlocked the screen.

As expected, she had a couple dozen missed calls and a number of text messages from Dawn Bellwether, all from within the last hour or so. Seemed the assistant mayor hadn't gotten much sleep, and the text messages demonstrated her rapidly rising aggravation.

 _Sent at 5:32 a.m.: Hey Crossfire I didnt see you yesterday and I couldnt look for you bc we had an emergency. Did you leave the evidence somewhere?_

 _Sent at 5:39: a.m.: Sorry Crossfire I dont mean to bug you. Just wanna see if you're still gonna drop off that evidence for me_

 _Sent at 5:45 a.m.: Crossfire are you ok?_

 _Sent at 6:01 a.m.: Listen I REALLY need that evidence so please call me back!_

 _Sent at 6:06 a.m.: Crossfire are you awake yet?_

 _Sent at 6:18 a.m.: Crossfire PLEASE answer me!_

 _Sent at 6:21 a.m.: CROSSFIRE!_

 _Sent at 6:22 a.m.: PLEASE CALL ME BACK_

 _Sent at 6:23 a.m.: CROSSFIRE WE SERIOUSLY NEED TO TALK_

According to the call log, Bellwether had tried calling her nearly continuously from 6:24 a.m. to 6:40 a.m.

If she could have moved her head without waking Nick, Judy would have hung it with a groan. As it was, she simply squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed at the ache that had suddenly materialized behind her forehead, and let out a long sigh.

Her thumbs paused for a moment above the keyboard before she typed out a reply.

" _I'll call you in a little while._ "

Bellwether's response was almost instantaneous.

" _OK PLEASE HURRY"_

Judy carefully placed the phone back into the satchel and then allowed herself the luxury of biting nervously at one of her claws until Nick finally shook himself awake, muttering apologies. The second she felt him stir, she plastered a cheerful smile onto her face and hoped that none of her worry showed in her eyes. Since Nick didn't ask whether anything was amiss, she assumed she was hiding it well.

When they arrived back at their apartment, it didn't take long for Nick to pass back out on the couch, which Judy counted as a blessing. As far as she was concerned, the poor, tired fox could sleep as long as he wanted, and she would use the time to communicate with her only real ally.

She padded into her bedroom and closed the door silently behind her before whipping out Crossfire's phone and calling Bellwether.

Almost immediately, the sheep's anxious voice squeaked though the receiver. "Crossfire?!"

Once again lowering her voice and adopting a stereotypical farmer's accent, Judy answered, "Yeah, hey, sorry. I—"

" _Where the hell have you been_?!" Bellwether snapped in such an abrupt screech that Judy gasped inaudibly and blinked in surprise. She heard a sigh on the other end before the assistant mayor continued apologetically. "Sorry, sorry. I've just been under a lot of stress lately. I just… I _really_ need that evidence, Crossfire. The Hustler threatened me _personally_ yesterday, broke into my office, and—and who knows what kind of sensitive information is in his paws now?" She sighed again. "We need to destabilize the Den of Thieves, Crossfire. With the evidence, I can have Chief Bogo plan a raid. Will you bring it by today?"

For a moment, Judy was tempted to voice her doubt that the Hustler had actually _threatened_ the assistant mayor. After her impromptu mission with him last night, it was hard to imagine him doing such a thing. But she swallowed it, not sure how she'd defend her argument without revealing her whereabouts after leaving City Hall, and she didn't want to lose Bellwether's trust or support.

"I… I still have the evidence," she said instead. "It's just… Well, I've been thinking—couldn't I try to, you know… _talk_ to them first?"

A long pause.

"What do you mean, _talk_ to them?" Bellwether asked incredulously.

"W-Well," Judy stammered a little and started biting her claw again, "I mean, they're only acting out like this because they feel desperate, right? Maybe if we _talked_ to them, tried to figure out—"

"When mammals have a problem with the way that they're treated here, we _talk_ to _civil rights groups_ , Crossfire," Bellwether interrupted, her tone harder than Judy had ever heard it. "We don't _pander_ to gangs that hurt other mammals with their childish tantrums. We don't negotiate with domestic terrorists."

Stunned, Judy took a moment to absorb the assistant mayor's damning words. Her gaze wandered guiltily toward the carrot pen sitting on her nightstand.

Bellwether's words made some degree of sense. Judy's paw drifted inches above the pen—and hesitated.

"It still feels…" she murmured.

The sheep had no patience left in her tone. "Still feels _what_ , Crossfire? The mammals in this city whose lives have been damaged by that abhorrent group of criminals don't have _time_ for your feelings. Understand?"

Judy understood. But she couldn't bring herself to say so.

"If you don't give me that evidence," Bellwether snapped, "then I'll be forced to withdraw support for your cause from City Hall, and I'll make your capture a top priority for the ZPD!"

Finally drawing in a breath, Judy answered. "What will happen to the mammals if you catch them?"

She heard a derisive snort on the receiver. "Most of them will probably spend the rest of their lives in jail, where they belong. No parole, either. Some of the leaders are known mobsters and will probably get the death penalty."

Judy's heart sank. _All_ those mammals? Jailed for life? And the _death_ penalty?

 _They wanted to kill me_ , she reminded herself, a chill gripping her spine. _They were talking about kidnapping and killing other mammals._ _Am I really willing to just let them walk free_?

Still, she had long held the conviction that mammals should be treated as being capable of change before destroying their lives. She believed in justice, but she also believed in redemption. This was the very thing that she had been trying to tell the Hustler at the mansion—

The Hustler.

Could he be among them?

Would he be among those left to rot behind bars?

Or worse?

Sighing inwardly, she realized that she'd already made her decision. She shook her head at herself. That was the _second_ fox who'd managed to get this far under her skin.

"Sorry, Assistant Mayor Bellwether," she said quietly. "I can't hand it over to you."

The passing seconds were crushed under tension. Finally, Judy heard a click and then—nothing.

She stared at the words " _CALL ENDED_ " on her phone screen with drooping ears and a saddened frown. Slowly, she lay herself down on her bed, shifting her gaze to the ceiling as she tried to internalize what she'd done. Gut clenching, she realized that she would now have the Den of Thieves _and_ theZPD after her—and there was nobody left to help her if one of them caught up to her. For a few seconds, her breaths were quicker and shallower until she inhaled deeply to soothe herself.

 _One step at a time, Judy_ , she told herself, but the thought trembled in her mind. _One way or another, you'll be okay._

Gradually, she turned her head to study the carrot pen on the nightstand again.

She would have to make sure that the evidence never fell into anyone else's paws. In fact, she should _erase_ it altogether. Of course, the only way to erase a recording was to record over—

Suddenly, she grinned to herself.

A few minutes later, carrot pen in paw, she pressed the tiny button labeled " _RECORD"_ right next to Nick's face—and caught an especially slobbery snore. She held the pen there for a minute or two until she was sure that at least _most_ of the evidence condemning the Den of Thieves was gone. As she watched Nick's sweet sleeping face, she fought to keep from waking him by letting her grin turn into a loud chortle—and it wasn't just because she was so amused by her own prank.

It was because he was _there_.

And maybe that would be enough for her to be okay.

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 7:24 a.m._

* * *

Clutching her phone tightly to make sure she wouldn't break it by throwing it against a wall, Dawn Bellwether took one deep breath, then blew it out. She took another deep breath and sighed that one out through gritted teeth.

So much for Crossfire, the so-called "buffer between good and evil" or whatever. It figured. Bunnies could be fickle, stupid, and irrational. Comes with being so ridiculously emotional by nature. No wonder they were known for little else besides mindlessly breeding.

Once she was certain that she had control over her temper, she turned to face her closet. She fingered her chin thoughtfully as she studied the dresses hanging there.

Okay, so she would have to continue putting off the eradication of the Den of Thieves, but she'd already put up with them as a massive thorn in her side for years. She could do it for a little longer. Besides, she still had blessings to count, which she proceeded to do as she lifted one dress out of the closet by its hanger to eye it closer.

Last night, she'd received the marvelous news of Lionheart's arrest; at least the dumb bunny had managed to get _that_ done before turning coward and traitor. Today, Dawn would be sworn in as the new mayor, and then there would be a _very_ important press conference. She had to make sure her appearance was professional and impeccable—memorable, yet humble. The very picture of compassionate and intelligent leadership.

So what if one of her actresses had gotten stage fright?

As they say, the show must go on.

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 9:31 a.m._

* * *

From across the table by their kitchen, Judy visibly relished the way that Nick was glaring at her as her thumb held down the " _PLAY_ " button on her carrot pen, allowing the melodious sounds of Nick's snoring to permeate the air.

"And to think I made you breakfast," he said in a disapproving tone. " _Again_."

"And it's _almost_ as delicious as your pain and suffering," Judy quipped as she lifted her chin and slowly swallowed another bite of the vegetable omelet he'd served her before knowing of her treachery. Then she shot him a sickeningly sweet smile that crinkled her eyes, one paw demurely patting her heart. "Thank you, Nick. It means _so_ much to me."

Adding to her sense of triumph, she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch upward. She let her smile turn into a grin.

"If you think you're getting away with this," Nick warned, "you're very wrong, Fluff."

Judy shrugged and sighed nonchalantly. "Promises, promises." She raised her fork to her mouth to down the last morsel of her omelet. Breakfast had never tasted so victorious. With a flourish, she stood and walked her dishes to the sink. "Anyway, I don't have time to wait for your snappy comebacks. I have some errands to run today."

"Okay," Nick replied around a mouthful of his own food. "I'd offer to accompany you, but I actually have things to do, too." He brought his plate and fork to the sink as well, eyeing Judy with that confident half-lidded smirk she was starting to adore. "But don't worry your little cottontail. You'll get your comeuppance soon enough."

"Well, I hope you follow through as well as you threaten, Slick," Judy tilted her head and cast him a smirk of her own as she unconsciously stepped closer to him.

And just as she was registering _how_ close she was now, the fox flicked some of the dishwater at her. She blinked and backed away, wriggling her nose in surprise.

"And _that's_ just the beginning," Nick said.

Judy let out a laugh. "I'm sorry, do you _want_ me to beat you at another water fight?"

"Please. You were quite soundly defeated."

"It was a draw at _best_."

"It was as much a draw as a fox is an elephant, but sure, if that makes you feel better," Nick conceded with a shrug. Then he turned, grabbed his duffel bag from where he'd set it on the kitchen counter, and sauntered toward the door. Only when he spoke again did Judy tear her eyes away from his tail. "Dinner's at six. See you tonight, Carrots."

"Bye, Nick," she managed to say before she heard the door click shut.

She let some seconds of silence pass before she let out a small giggle. Despite the fear still crushing her chest since her conversation with Bellwether, there was also a sparkling lightness that she knew was inspired only by that fox.

Finally, she sighed and headed toward her bedroom, noticing that her feet felt heavier than usual. A tingle of trepidation bolted through her blood with each step. Visions of red and blue police lights, nets, and hitmammal guns pushed each other to claim her focus.

But as she donned Crossfire's disguise, she reminded herself that crime wouldn't wait for her to sort it all out.

Pausing only long enough to take one calming breath, she jumped out the window.

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 10:02 a.m._

* * *

Nick rapped the back door of Finnick's van with his knuckles. The fennec fox abruptly swung the door open with a glower.

"Well, hey there, big guy," Nick greeted with his most disarming smirk. "Is that a frown on your face, or are you just happy to see me?"

Finnick only grunted irritably and pushed the door open wider to allow Nick to climb up. As expected, Weaselton was already lounging in a corner, grimacing at him. For a moment, Nick considered making a joke about how he looked like someone had stuck a pawpsicle down his pants, but he quickly decided against it.

"Sorry it took me so long," he said instead. "I got your text while I was cooking breakfast."

Finnick slammed the door shut and turned to him with crossed arms. "Wanna explain what the hell you were doin' last night?"

Blinking and arching a brow, Nick spread his paws. "What do you mean?"

"Lionheart's arrest," Finnick replied. "It was all over the news."

"And you're unhappy that I found _two_ missing members of the Den _plus_ the other missing predators _and_ got a major authority sacked—all in the space of a few hours?" Nick retorted, hoping that the way he was idly examining one of his claws would hide the fact that he already dreaded the direction he knew this conversation was heading.

"They said Lionheart was ravin' 'bout you an' Crossfire bein' there, too," Finnick growled. "I'd say _everyone's_ unhappy with you lettin' her walk free _again_."

At that, Nick's eyes flicked back up to his friend, and he found himself glaring. "She _helped_ me. That _has_ to count for something."

"Big still thinks she's dangerous," Finnick responded.

"And I gotta say I agree," Weaselton piped up.

Nick rolled his eyes. "You think that fat sheep who hangs around Big's mansion is dangerous."

"He _is_!"

" _Anyway_ ," Finnick barked, cutting between them. "Big wanted to let you know that this is your last warning. Next time you see the bunny, get rid of her, or you're kicked out."

The news was a sucker punch to the gut, that was for sure, but Nick had to admit he was surprised that it didn't feel as painful as he'd expected. Another question sprang to his mind before he could analyze his reaction.

"And Big didn't tell me this himself because…?" he asked.

Finnick sighed. "You're demoted. I'm the group leader now."

Somehow, that actually bothered Nick more—a much harder punch. He absorbed his friend's words quietly, his eyes on the floor, expression carefully blank.

Finally, he squared his shoulders and pasted his signature smirk back onto his face. "In that case, what's the plan, big guy?"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 12:34 p.m._

* * *

"Stop!" Judy shouted. "Stop in the name of the law!"

"You can't say that, you idiot!" the ferret running away with the purse she'd seen him snatch yelled at her over his shoulder. "You're a _vigilante_!"

Grumbling under her breath, Judy picked up her speed and closed the distance between them. Once she was near enough, she leaped up and let her foot land directly on his—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 12:34 p.m._

* * *

"—back over here!" Nick whispered urgently, waving his friends into the nearest alleyway. Once there, they crouched behind a dumpster and exchanged satisfied glances when the police officers they'd spotted on a coffee break came back to their patrol car to find three flat tires.

Finnick rapidly texted the other Den group with which they partnered today to let them know that they were clear to sneak into the jewelry shop that they knew was part of the officers' patrol area. The mouse who owned the shop had overcharged one underprivileged predator too many. Now he'd pay a high price himself.

"Ahh, perfect," Weaselton seethed as he lifted his foot and scrutinized the chunky pink slime on it. "Just my luck. Had to go and step in some moron's—"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 1:45 p.m._

* * *

"—puke!" the pig whined. "Seriously! Stop! I said I'm gonna _puke_!"

Judy let the roundabout slow to a stop before she stuck her face close to the pig's. Since she was confident in how well she'd tied him to it, she didn't need to worry about him grabbing her. "And the next time a lady says _no_ , what are you going to do?"

Despite the greenish tint in his cheeks, the pig narrowed his eyes defiantly at her. "I don't take orders from _females_."

With a nod, Judy stepped back and positioned her leg on one of the bars, ready to push. "I see you need a little more—"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 1:45 p.m._

* * *

"—time to go," Nick mumbled as he quickened his pace across the bar, feeling the eyes of the rhino bouncer following him.

"But did you get it?" crackled Finnick's voice in his ear.

"Of course I got it," Nick murmured as he fingered the plastic bag in his pocket. "One hair from a very drunk squirrel, coming right up."

"Then hurry up," Finnick hissed as the rhino started heading toward the door to cut off Nick's path.

"All this for social security fraud," Weaselton scoffed. "Insurance fraud woulda been easier."

"Not _now_ , Weaselton," Nick whispered harshly. Then he grinned amiably as he came face-to-face with the rhino. " _Frederick_! Long time, no—"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 3:17 p.m._

* * *

"—see that?" Judy asked the wolf she had knocked to the ground with a few well-aimed kicks. Having swiftly tied his paws and legs together, she pointed up at the sky. "See that beautiful blue? Take a _really_ good look. You probably won't be seeing it again for a while once the ZPD comes and picks you up. That's what you get for armed robbery attempts."

Her ear twitched—and her heart tripped—at the sound of a siren.

"Speaking of which," she said, propping her fists on her hips and smirking at the wolf's glower. "Sounds like they'll be here very soon. Good luck!"

With that, she scurried into the shadows of a nearby alleyway just before a squad car rounded the corner—and she kept running. Only once she had taken shelter beneath a dumpster in _another_ alleyway two streets down did she allow herself a chance to—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 4:33 p.m._

* * *

"— _breathe_ , Finnick." Raising his paws placatingly, Nick hoped the smaller fox would slow the van to the proper speed limit soon.

"After that stunt you pulled, you're lucky _you're_ still breathin'!" Finnick yelled.

"It was just a harmless little prank."

" _Harmless_?!" Finnick hollered. "Trickin' sloths into a game of telephone ain't _harmless_! The DMV's a joke as it is, an' now you've made us late for meetin' Killshot's group!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Killshot takes himself too seriously anyway."

Finnick rapidly shot glares between Nick and the road, which was still flying by much faster than it legally should. "I'll show _you_ serious. I'll show you _serious_ right up where the sun don't—"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 4:33 p.m._

* * *

"—shine that light over here!"

With her paws concealing her mouth, Judy hoped that none of the members of the Den of Thieves who had chased her into an abandoned warehouse would be able to hear her heart pummeling her chest. She had counted nine of them—two wolves, a panther, a lion, two hyenas, and three foxes. Even with her tendency to overestimate herself, she knew when it was wiser to run—and fortunately, the warehouse was full of hiding places suitable for small mammals. She'd managed to take refuge underneath a rusting forklift in a far corner. The air was pitch-black for her, so she imagined that even the thieves' predator eyes were struggling.

Her nose twitched from both fear and the hint of citrus in the air. She had frantically sprayed every drop of her citrus spray into the atmosphere the second that she'd sprinted through the doors. Although it apparently hadn't been strong or thick enough to get through the predators' masks, she was sure that it had at least muddled the scents of the city that she'd picked up throughout the course of the day. As long as she didn't move, they shouldn't be able to see, smell, or hear her.

One of the thieves cursed. "We lost her."

"No, she's around here somewhere," another drawled. "We just need to keep looking."

"Killshot, come on, we don't have time!" yet another sighed impatiently. "We're supposed to meet the Hustler's group any minute."

If it weren't for the roof of the forklift's floor above her head, Judy's ears would have straightened into lightning rods immediately.

"Eh," the second thief had a shrug in his voice. "The Hustler takes himself too seriously anyway. Also, he's not the leader of that group anymore. The Painter is."

"Will you shut up?" a fourth thief hissed. "She can probably hear us!"

"You're right," the thief called Killshot chuckled darkly before raising his voice. "You can hear us, right, little bunny? So let me tell you, and you remember this—just because we can't find you now doesn't mean you'll be so lucky every time. One of these days, we'll kill you. In fact, I'll hunt you down myself and kill you _personally_." He let out a single laugh and bellowed. " _Hear that?! I'll find you, and I'll kill you!"_

Judy was still trembling underneath the forklift long after she'd heard them leave. Finally, she crawled out and slowly made her way through the darkness toward the entrance, waiting for a paw to shoot out from somewhere and grab her leg. The moment she stepped cautiously into the sunlight, she darted to her—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 4:54 p.m._

* * *

"—right, right, right, it's my fault that we're late," Nick conceded as he stood in front of Killshot in the warehouse's dirt lot. Although the hyena's face was covered by a mask, just like the other thieves, Nick had no doubt that he was glaring. Without further ado, he fished the plastic bag out of his pocket and handed it to the hyena. "As promised, one squirrel hair and a license plate match."

Killshot barely glanced at it before pocketing it. Then he crossed his arms.

"And?" he said.

"And…" Nick hesitated. "And you're welcome?" Silence. "Happy birthday?" Crickets. "Happy St. Ratrick's Day?"

One of the other thieves—a fellow fox, Nick knew—flicked his tail irritably and snapped, "Apologize!"

Before Nick could respond, Finnick jumped forward, swinging his little fists. "Apologize?! You were late, too! I saw you pullin' up here jus' a minute before us, an' who even knows what _you_ were doin'?!"

And in the short time span it took for Nick to sigh, all eleven of the other thieves were arguing, shoving each other, and probably frothing inside their masks, which was unsanitary. He took a step away to rub his forehead and glanced up just in time to see a familiar bunny-shaped figure in black dash toward the shadows of an alleyway.

He whirled back toward his companions and raised his voice above theirs. " _AAAAND_ it's time to clear out because we have other things to do so _many_ things to do in fact so I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience but now we must hurry along yes come on and why don't we move over—"

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 5:16 p.m._

* * *

"—here," Judy said to the little raccoon she'd noticed eyeing the fruit stand on the other side of the street, handing him a few coins. Now that she had changed back into her street clothes, she could let him see her smile kindly. "Go pick out whatever you'd like."

The raccoon regarded her with something between suspicion and gratitude. Finally, he nodded, murmured a sincere "thank you," and scurried across the street as soon as he could.

As Judy watched him choose a small bagful of fruit, she was relieved to find a sense of serenity warming her chest. After the encounter with the thieves, she hadn't seemed able to stop shaking. Amazing how such a tiny good deed could help set her emotions right again.

She pivoted to continue making her journey back home. The sight of a pair of police officers walking into a nearby restaurant nearly made her heart freeze and her feet sprint, but she reminded herself that she wasn't Crossfire at the moment. Still, it was startling to see how deeply her fear had burrowed into her subconscious.

Shaking her head, she continued forward. Soon, she would get to see Nick, and then she would _really_ be okay. But first, a trip to the—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 5:16 p.m._

* * *

"—store so that I can pick up some food," Nick explained to Finnick, who shrugged. He hadn't spoken to him much since they'd left the meeting with Killshot, but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

In just a few minutes, the van turned into a Z-Mart parking lot and stopped by the front doors. Nick, who had been dressing into his normal clothes at the back, hopped out with a salute toward his friends, who wordlessly saluted back.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief for being done with the day, Nick headed into the store and checked his phone for the list of ingredients he'd made on the road. He smiled at the word "carrots"—the first item on the list.

And of course, as he passed the dairy aisle, he remembered that he'd also need—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 5:35 p.m._

* * *

"—cheese and crackers," Judy mumbled to herself. "How many different kinds of rope does one hardware store _need_?"

With an exhausted sigh, she studied the various lengths, styles, and colors in the ropes that sat upon the shelves. Tying up the pig and wolf today had already depleted her supply. At this rate, she would go broke trying to make sure she constantly had everything she needed as Crossfire.

Well, at least she no longer had fox repellent, so that freed up a little room in her belt. She had to smile at that.

Upon reaching the cash register and laying the rope on the conveyer belt, Judy tried to ignore the female skunk cashier who eyed both her and her purchase with what appeared to be genial curiosity. Judy made the mistake of chancing a glance at her and catching her eye, which the skunk apparently took as permission to strike up a conversation.

"So, uh," the skunk smiled, "mind if I ask what all this rope is for? Special project, maybe?"

Judy had not been prepared for this question. She grinned—perhaps a little too widely—and waved a paw dismissively. "Oh, youknow…" And then she trailed off, hoping that the skunk would in fact simply decide that she knew.

Which she did. The skunk nodded sagely as she scanned the bar code on the wrapper. "Oh, _yeah_ , of course. I hear you bunnies are _legendary_ for your… _creativity_." She leaned forward after stuffing the rope into a plastic bag. "So what do you usually find better—vegetable oil or butter? For… you know…"

Somehow, Judy managed to keep her grin in place, though she couldn't keep her shoulders from stiffening nor her eyes from widening suddenly and drastically. She immediately slapped a twenty-dollar bill onto the counter, then snatched up the plastic bag, rammed it into her backpack, and sped out the door. "Keep the change!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Once outside, she shook her head, trying to ignore how her cheeks were starting to—

* * *

 _Day 7: Sunday, June 22_ _nd_ _, 2016, 6:00 p.m._

* * *

"—burn, baby, burn!" Nick cheered as he wriggled the skillet in which he was whipping up a quick and easy quesadilla dinner.

"You're burning our dinner?" he heard Judy say as she entered the kitchen, and he swiveled his head to see her grinning at him. "And here I thought you were a professional."

Nick raised his paw to cover his heart—partially because it was glowing and partially because it made him look indignant and innocent at her remark—and replied, "I don't appreciate what you're implying, Carrots."

" _I_ don't appreciate burnt food," Judy retorted as she padded toward him and slid her arms around his waist for a hug. "But I do appreciate _you_." She craned her neck to shine her adorable grin up toward him. "Hi!"

"Hi," he said back, returning her hug—this time keeping his voice intact. "How was your day?"

"Fine," she said after a moment, and he reluctantly let her back away. "And yours?"

"Also fine," he replied before gesturing to the skillet. "Care for some cheesy goodness?"

"Please!" the bunny chirped as she hopped onto her toes to grab plates out of a cupboard.

Sitting down at the table with Judy and chatting about anything and everything—watching her smile and the way her warm violet eyes lit up, listening to the way that she spoke about both mundane and sophisticated topics with the same energy and thoughtfulness—this was exactly what Nick's tired heart and mind needed.

Now if only his stupid phone would stop _vibrating_ on the stupid _countertop_.

When they were halfway through their meals, Nick grit his teeth and excused himself to see what was apparently so urgent. Once he opened his phone and started glancing through the text messages that Finnick had been sending him, he knit his brows together in concern.

 _Sent at 6:18 p.m.: Wilde turn on the news!_

 _Sent at 6:22: p.m.: Did you have anything to do with this!_

 _Sent at 6:28 p.m.: Wilde answer your phone!_

 _Sent at 6:31 p.m.: We need to talk about this NOW_

 _Sent at 6:34 p.m.: You better stop ignoring me or I will PUNCH your nose into the other side of your HEAD next time I see you and dont think I WONT_

 _Sent at 6:40 p.m.: WILDE_

 _Sent at 6:45 p.m.: TELL ME YOU'RE SEEING THIS_

 _Sent at 6:49 p.m.: PICK UP YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW_

 _Sent at 6:52 p.m.: OK emergency group meeting tomorrow night 7:00 DO NOT BE LATE if you are late I'LL BITE YOUR FACE OFF_

"Nick? Everything okay?"

He glanced up to see Judy's watching him curiously, head tilted to the side.

"Not sure," he mumbled as he brought up the browser on his phone and navigated to the ZNN website. His eyes widened when Dawn Bellwether's fluffy form on a podium immediately appeared front and center with the headline: " _SENSELESS SAVAGERY: LIONHEART ARRESTED, MISSING MAMMALS QUARANTINED."_ Underneath was a tagline reading, " _Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether held a press conference explaining the events behind the shocking arrest of Mayor Leodore Lionheart._ "

Reseating himself at the table and setting the phone between him and Judy, he clicked on the " _PLAY_ " button, and the assistant mayor's voice squeaked from the speakers while camera flashes lit up the screen.

"Yes, it's true, Mayor Lionheart was arrested for kidnapping and imprisoning predators who had mysteriously gone savage," she said to the crowd, placing a hoof over her chest. "And I apologize to _all_ citizens of Zootopia for this _horrendous_ breach in trust. In accordance with the Zootopian Constitution, he has been removed from office, and I will assemble a new administration. Let the first promise that I make to the Zootopia citizenry be that I will do _everything_ in my power to ensure that we will govern the city with integrity and transparency."

One of the reporters raised a paw. Bellwether nodded and pointed at him.

"Do we know what's afflicting the mammals who went savage?" he inquired.

"Not yet," Bellwether shook her head with a solemn expression. "But they're _all_ members of the predator family, so we're looking into the possibility that there's a biological link between each case of savagery."

Nick drew in a breath and rested his forehead in his paws with a groan. "No, no, no. This _cannot_ be happening."

But it was. The clip from the press conference wasn't finished.

"So predators are the only mammals going savage?" another reported clarified.

"Yes," Bellwether replied gravely. "Yes, I'm afraid they are." Just as the reporters' clamor increased in volume, she waved her hooves briefly. "Unfortunately, we have no more time for questions. For now, please just rest assured that the ZPD is equipped and determined to protect all of Zootopia."

With that, the clip ended.

Nick fought to keep from letting himself collapse on the table. Across from him, Judy said nothing for a moment. Then she reached out a paw and gently laid it on his arm.

"Are you worried about the predators?" she asked quietly.

With a sigh, Nick met her eyes and noted the way her ears sagged behind her head. "Yes. I am." He sat up. "Every mammal in Zootopia, both prey and predator, will be looking at all the predators and wondering if they're going to snap next. Predators are already given the side-eye by prey all day, every day." He sighed heavily, massaging his temples. "This is going to be a nightmare."

There was a soft, hopeful smile in Judy's voice when she responded. "Then I guess it's a good thing we have that meeting with the Predators for Harmony Association, right?"

The predators' rights group. Nick had nearly forgotten that Judy had expressed interest in attending the meeting on Tuesday. He locked gazes with her, searching for any hint of hesitance or trepidation on her part.

"You still want to go to that?" he asked.

"Seems there's more reason now than ever," Judy shrugged, still smiling. "We'll figure it out."

But Nick could only manage an upward tick in the corner of his mouth. He wondered if his eyes looked as tired as he felt. "I hope so, Carrots."

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 8:18 a.m._

* * *

Nick had _also_ hoped that he wouldn't wake up before nine o'clock on his second day off, but so much for that.

Yawning, he rolled out of his bed, stopping just before he plopped down to the floor, and grunted as he sat up. He stared blearily around the room for a few seconds, then checked his phone. The last of his sleepiness was blinked away rapidly when he saw a text message from Judy.

 _Sent at 8:03 a.m.: Ran out for some shopping! See you later! Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk. I hope you'll have a better day._

He gave himself a moment to absorb the news. For the first time all week, Judy's bright and lovely face wouldn't greet him first thing in the morning. If the mild dismay permeating his chest like fog was any indication, that bunny's hold on him was getting stronger by the day.

Well, nothing to do about it for now. He considered his options as he dressed in his usual Pawaiian shirt and slacks. Thankfully, he had no tasks from the Den awaiting him until his meeting with Finnick and Weaselton that evening, so maybe he could scour a mall for a present for his mother. After all, her birthday was a week away, and he'd better just get something now while it was on his—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 8:35 a.m._

* * *

"—mind if you tell me what's going on here?" Judy raised her voice over the sound of sniggering as she leaped down from a tree branch. Decked out in her Crossfire outfit, she landed in front of a trio of adolescent mammals—a deer, a ram, and a rabbit—who had been throwing eggs at a house and car in a suburban area. Wordlessly, she snatched an egg out of the rabbit's paw.

"Hey, butt out!" the rabbit exclaimed.

"My butt is staying right here," Judy said firmly, tossing the egg back and forth between her palms. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Better than chasing these predators out before they go savage?" the deer retorted, folding his arms defiantly.

Judy held the egg still as her breath caught. Then she absent-mindedly slipped it into a pocket of her utility belt and glanced toward the window of the house, spotting a family portrait hanging on the wall—a family of cougars lived there.

She refocused her attention on the younger mammals when an egg rushed across her line of sight and splatted on the car behind her. Balling her fists, she stomped closer to them. "Out! Get out! _Now_!"

"How are you going to make us?" the rabbit shot back.

"Dude, you know that's Crossfire, right?" the ram murmured nervously.

"Yeah, but we're kids, doofus. She's not going to hit us," the rabbit rolled his eyes.

It was true, though Judy had to admit that she was briefly tempted. Instead, she glanced at the backpack on the ground next to them, which appeared to hold a couple more cartons of eggs. She dashed forward before the kids could react, grabbed it, and used the trunk of the car to launch herself into the branches of the tree overshadowing it. Smirking, she dangled the backpack above the kids' gaping faces.

"Go home, boys," she said.

Then the rabbit's expression screwed up in fury. He bent and picked up a rock from the street. As he was winding up to throw it at a window—and as Judy was wondering how quickly she could scramble down the tree—the front door of the house swung open. An adult male cougar stepped onto the porch, mouth hanging open as he stared at all the egg yolks plastered on the car and sides of the house.

When he turned toward the kids with a snarl, the rabbit immediately dropped the rock, and he led the three of them in a sprint toward the end of the street.

Judy climbed a little higher, hoping the leaves of the tree would conceal her as she watched the cougar run his paws slowly through the fur on his head, surveying the damage once more. Her sensitive ears picked up his stressed whimpers.

Only after he'd trudged back inside did she jump carefully from branch to branch until she was on the ground again. She resisted the urge to lift her mask enough to bite at her claws, thinking about the Hustler's warning, about Nick's worry…

Would the predators really be—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 9:42 a.m._

* * *

"—okay, then where could I go find another one?" Nick sighed wearily.

The pig cashier at the jewelry store shrugged and offered no further information.

Nick pointed at the small, simple silver chain with the tiny emerald pendant in the display box. "Why can't I just take _that_ one?"

"Store policy," the pig replied. Her nametag read " _MANAGER_ " right above the word " _VIOLETTA,_ " and all three of her chins moved against her shoulders as she shrugged again. "We don't sell items in display cases."

Clenching his fist, Nick resisted the urge to snidely point out the fact that he had watched the pig sell both a bracelet _and_ a watch to two _different_ customers—both prey, he had noted—when he walked into the store. "And you're _sure_ you don't know where else I could find something like that?" he asked between grit teeth. "Maybe at a store that _actually_ serves predators?"

The pig narrowed her beady eyes at him. "I wouldn't know. Now I'm afraid I must ask you to leave. You're upsetting the other customers."

A quick glance around the store made Nick aware of a nearby young beaver couple and a moose leaning away from him, almost curling into themselves. With effort, he loosened his fingers, pushed himself away from the counter, and walked out of the store without glancing—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 10:01 a.m._

* * *

"—back to work," Judy muttered to herself as she crouched behind a rooftop ledge and watched the streets below. After dropping off the kids' backpack and all its eggs at the back door of a soup kitchen in another district—they'd figure out something to do with eggs, right?—she'd immediately refocused her attention on hunting crime to fight.

And for a while, nothing much seemed to be happening. Then a shout.

"Keep your freaky eyes to yourself, predator!"

It was a ram shouting at a wolf on the sidewalk. The wolf was sitting on a bench, reading a book and eating a sandwich. He stared in consternation at the ram, one cheek bulging with food, while the ram glared at him.

"You heard me!" he exclaimed. Other passersby trotted quickly along, averting their eyes from the scene.

"I'm not doing anything," the wolf replied.

"You're _looking_ at me!"

"That's not a crime!"

"Just mind your own business, _predator_!"

The wolf's tail twitched irritably. For a moment, Judy felt a tingle of panic. It was true, no actual crime was occurring, and yet she felt like it was her responsibility to do… _something_ …

She glanced at her utility belt and remembered—the egg she'd pocketed.

Pulling it out, she stared blankly at it. _Am I really going to do this_?

Then she looked again at the ram, who was continuing to shout at the increasingly agitated wolf.

 _Yes. Yes, I am._

With careful aim, she hurled the egg at the ram's head. It exploded into yellow gloop with a satisfying crack.

As the ram yelped and looked around for the culprit, the wolf stood up and hurried—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 11:23 a.m._

* * *

"—away!" the mouse squealed while protectively holding his suitcase close to his chest as Nick walked past him on the sidewalk. "Go _away_ , fox!"

Nick ignored him and continued making his way toward the third jewelry store he'd be visiting that day. At least he knew that this one was owned by a tiger.

As soon as he walked inside, he was greeted with the sight of a porcupine arguing with said owner at the counter. He waved a pearl necklace menacingly back and forth.

"How do I even know these are real?" he was saying.

"I assure you, sir, that I personally check the genuineness of each item that comes into the store," the tiger rumbled calmly, without a single muscle moving besides his mouth.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you, am I?" the porcupine sneered. "Because these are more expensive than most pearls I've seen."

"That is because they are blue—they are rarer."

"It's still outrageous! You're trying to rip me off!"

The tiger leaned forward and opened his jaws to sigh. "Sir, I—"

But the porcupine interrupted with a shout. "Hey! What the—you don't need to go _savage_ about it!" He dropped the pearls on the counter, pivoted on his foot, and stormed out. "Forget it. I'll just go somewhere else."

Nick stood still as the porcupine walked past him at the entrance. He and the tiger exchanged looks that were simultaneously flabbergasted and weary.

At length, the tiger straightened and smiled weakly. "Nicholas. It has been a long time."

Nodding, Nick strode inside. "So it has, Gerald. So it has. I'm on the hunt for something for my—"

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 1:12 p.m._

* * *

"—mother probably dropped you on her head with her clumsy bear paws!" yelled a caribou at a grizzly bear at the park. For the second time that day, Judy had made a tree her hiding place, and she closely observed the argument between the two mammals. The caribou and grizzly mothers were both holding their young children, who were whining and sniffling.

"Look, I'm sorry, and I've already had Maxie return the toy and apologize for taking it," the grizzly sighed. "There's no need to insult me."

But the caribou wasn't done. "You'd better watch that kid of yours," she snorted. "If he keeps up that kind of behavior, he could end up going savage."

At that, the grizzly frowned darkly. She slowly set her cub on the ground. "Maxie, go play." Although the cub only wandered a couple feet away, anxiously watching his mother, the bear's gaze was trained on the caribou. "Why don't you try saying that again?"

Okay, this could get ugly—and criminal. Once again, Judy looked around for a solution.

And soon, she was digging into the pocket of her pants to find some loose change. The moment the cub's wandering gaze turned toward the tree, she dropped a coin onto the grass. The cub blinked. Judy dropped another coin. The cub stumbled forward the way all children his age do—like a delighted drunkard.

Judy kept dropping coins until the cub was underneath the tree—and right then, the grizzly mother finally noticed that her child had wandered away. With a fierce glare at the caribou, she broke out of the escalating argument to fetch her cub, who was busily gathering every coin, along with some fistfuls of dirt.

Once she moved away, the caribou huffed and marched off with her own child.

Another crisis barely averted. Judy released a breath of relief.

But the city seemed like it was already falling apart. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, wondering what would come—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 2:53 p.m._

* * *

"—next, please!" declared the Cubway cashier. Nick stepped toward the glass case and asked for a six-inch fish sandwich—toasted, of course. He would have explained which toppings he wanted, too, if it hadn't been for the scream.

Every customer whirled in alarm when the sound tore through the air. It was coming from a ferret, pointing at a lion who had dropped on all fours and was snarling viciously in the middle of the outdoor food court. Almost immediately, various other mammals' frantic voices joined that of the ferret, and everyone scrambled as far away from the lion as possible. The lion flinched irritably at the noise, saliva hanging in a crescent from his lower lip, and his gaze dashed wildly this way and that.

Fortunately, a couple of police officers had been eating at a nearby table. Before the lion could lunge at anyone, they shot a tranquilizer dart at his shoulder. With one roar and then another, he dropped dizzily to the ground and slipped into unconsciousness.

Within minutes, the officers cuffed the lion and loaded him into the back of a squad car. Knowing that the tranquilizer would only keep the lion down for half an hour, they screeched away from the scene, red and blue lights flashing as the siren blared. The customers trickled back to their tables and lines at the restaurants, many with labored breathing and paws or hooves clutching their chests.

Soon, it was once again business as usual. But every mammal was glancing furtively at each other—at the _predators_ —while murmuring suspiciously.

Nick watched it all unfold with a carefully neutral expression. He refused to acknowledge the fearful looks cast his way. _Don't let them see that they get to you._

"Don't get close, sweetie," he heard a rabbit mother whisper to her daughter as she discreetly pulled her away from him.

 _Don't let them see._

He caught sight of his reflection in the glass as he calmly requested the toppings for his sandwich—and he found himself checking his eyes for any sign of abnormality.

Swallowing, he repeated the mantra in his mind one more time. _Don't let them see that they get to—_

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 3:45 p.m._

* * *

"—you!" Judy shouted at the buffalo-shaped vandal spraying graffiti on a building wall in a quiet street. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Without a word, the buffalo dropped the can of paint he'd been holding and rushed away in the opposite direction. Judy watched him go with her fists propped on her hips, shaking her head.

Then she studied the graffiti.

It was a picture of fangs in an open jaw, overlaid with an X and accompanied by the words, " _PREDATORS NOT WELCOME."_

Rapidly, gracelessly, Judy's heart tumbled to her toes. For a minute, she simply stood and gazed forlornly at the graffiti. Only when she heard a police siren approaching was she shaken out of her reverie and prompted to scamper into an alley; just the sound of a siren was now enough to spur her into a frantic sprint even before she fully registered it.

She pressed her back against a brick wall, still trying to process her own devastation at what she had just seen—and what she'd _been_ seeing _all day_.

How could it _already_ be this bad? How could so many mammals _think_ this way?

With a sigh, she fished her personal cell phone from her utility belt and texted Nick.

" _I'll be home by 5:00_ ," she said. _"Bringing dinner!"_

There was definitely _one_ predator whom _she_ would always welcome.

And the second she saw him, she was going to pounce on him and give him one or two or ten obnoxiously huge—

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 4:33 p.m._

* * *

"— _hugs and kisses_ ," read the text from Nick's mother. Well, now that they had set up a plan to meet for her birthday, at least he could relax about that.

And now he could focus on hurrying home to meet Judy for dinner.

Past the anxious glances, the skitters out of his path, the nervous whispers.

He would get past all of it to see her.

And then everything would be okay.

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 5:04 p.m._

* * *

"Hey, Slick!" Judy's voice sang through the apartment as the door closed behind her. She padded into the living room to find him sprawled on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Is everything okay?" she inquired, her tone more subdued.

With a small smile, Nick held out his paw in a quiet beckon for her to come forward. She knelt beside the couch and pressed against him in a hug as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Kind of a rough day, Fluff," he said. He squeezed her shoulders. "But it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Judy replied warmly, but her brows slanted upward in concern. "A rough day, though? Did you have to deal with a lot of jerks?"

"I always have to deal with jerks," Nick smiled wanly. "I'm a fox, in case my roguish good looks didn't make that obvious."

The bunny rewarded him with a brief chuckle. "Well, yeah, but more jerks than usual?"

With a sigh, Nick gave her a nod. "Yeah."

"Because of the press conference last night?"

He kept his gaze fixed on some random spot on the couch so that he wouldn't have to see the pity and worry in her eyes. "Yep."

"Oh, Nick," Judy hugged him tighter, though she remained gentle. "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of it, I promise." She lifted her head to look at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, Fluff," he answered, letting his cheek rest on her forehead for a moment. "But thanks."

Judy nodded slowly, biting her lip. "I _really_ wish I'd been there. I would've stood up for you."

Nick shrugged. "Not your fault. Besides, we don't want anyone thinking that bunnies can go savage, too."

His joke earned him another breathy chuckle. He relished the sound.

But as he was about to open his mouth to see if he could get a real laugh out of her, she chirped, "Well, I think I have something to cheer you up." Then she held up a plastic bag. "I got burgers!"

"Burgers?" Nick parroted as he sat up and quirked an amused brow at her. "Is this some weird form of advocacy where you try to sympathize with predators better by eating their food?"

Judy stuck out her tongue at him. "I have a _veggie_ burger. Yours is chicken."

At that, Nick grabbed the bag excitedly and pulled out the one that definitely smelled like meat. He allowed himself a long sniff, relishing it. The second he unwrapped it and tore out a bite, he fell back against the couch cushions, closed his eyes, and groaned with delight.

After a blissful moment, he fixed Judy with an appreciative look. "Thank you _very_ much, Carrots."

"You're _very_ welcome," she grinned as she nibbled on her own burger. With a prim nod, she continued, "And it's a good thing you changed your attitude so quickly. Otherwise, I might not have given you _these_ for dessert."

She held up another bag that Nick hadn't noticed earlier. It was labeled " _Sweet Nothings_."

His mouth dropped open in awe, quickly closing it when he remembered that there was still half-chewed chicken on his tongue. "They have the _best_ cakes!" he said.

"So I've heard," Judy acquiesced. "Figured I'd try some and have you join me." She opened her mouth for another bite of her sandwich, then paused, her brows drawn upward. "I know I already said this, but I'm _really_ sorry that your day was so rough."

Nick waved a paw as he chomped on his food again. "It's just what I was worried about last night. Prejudice against predators. Everybody's scared of us. Even _we_ are scared of us." He sighed. "It's just… disheartening."

Judy nodded quietly and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "I kept seeing that today, too. It was really depressing." She brushed his arm with her paw. "Are you okay, though?"

His only response was to shrug.

And for some reason, that brought a small, mischievous smile to Judy's face. "I know _just_ what to do."

* * *

 _Day 8: Monday, June 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 7:07 p.m._

* * *

Above them—their bedding. Below them—the floor. Around them—cake crumbs.

Fox and bunny lay next to each other chuckling about nothing in particular—the deliciousness of the cakes, the movies they'd discussed, the stories they'd swapped of their childhoods. With the living room dimmed, they now spent some time gazing at the way the bulb's light above them was fractured by the weaves of the blankets that they'd used to create their little fort. They were close enough to each other that the tips of the fur on their heads were tangling together.

Nick couldn't help thinking that he could stay that way forever.

At length, Judy's contented murmur wafted through the silence.

"So have you thought about what you want to do?"

Nick let a beat pass before he answered. "You'll have to be more specific."

"You know what I mean," she gently prodded.

He sighed. "I've… thought about it a little, but I haven't figured it out yet."

In his peripheral vision, he saw Judy turn onto her side to regard him. "What do you think is keeping you?"

After a moment, Nick hummed thoughtfully and shrugged against the carpet. "I guess I'm just not really used to thinking that I could have a different life. Society has already decided what foxes are and what they can do. I usually feel like I have no choice but to follow along."

His blood rushed warmer throughout his body when Judy reached out to cover his paw with hers.

"You shouldn't listen to them. You're so much more than what they decided you are," she said softly. When he turned to look at her, she granted him a gentle smile. "Besides, now I'm here, and I promise I'll support you every step of the way."

Returning his gaze to the cushions above them and hoping that her superb hearing wouldn't pick up the sound of his increased heartrate, Nick pulled a lazy smirk onto his muzzle. "You sure you can support me, Fluff? If you keep bringing me cakes, I'll probably get too heavy for you pretty soon."

Just as she started giggling, they heard the click of the front door opening. They exchanged wide-eyed, alarmed glances, but Nick bolted up and motioned at Judy to stay put while he investigated. To his relief, she acquiesced. As he lifted the blanket to poke his head out into the living room, he was greeted by Finnick's flabbergasted scowl in the doorway.

"Oh, _heeey_ , it's my _buddy_!" Nick said, twisting his lips into a grin that he knew would not fool Finnick at all.

"The hell is this, Wilde?" the fennec demanded, spreading his paws at his sides to emphasize the question. "You playin' kindergarten when we got a—"

"Oh, right!" Nick interrupted and pointedly finished for him. "Our _guys' night_. Totally forgot about that."

Finnick glowered confusedly as Nick turned back to Judy, who blinked inquisitively.

"Sorry, Carrots, I forgot that I was supposed to meet up with some friends for drinks tonight," he said, mentally noting that he was not being _entirely_ dishonest. "Mind if we continue this later?"

She paused before answering. The disappointment that flashed across her face both stabbed him with guilt and delighted him with hope. "Of course!" she replied, then waved her paws dismissively at him. "Yeah, of course, I've—I've got stuff to do anyway. Don't worry." Her smile reassured him. "Go have a good time."

After squeezing her shoulder briefly in thanks, Nick crawled out of the fort, and she followed. Although she smiled brightly at Finnick, he glared at her suspiciously, eyeing her up and down in a way that made Nick want to immediately jump to her defense. He swallowed it down and kept his smirk in place, arms crossed.

"Hi, I'm Judy Hopps!" the bunny introduced herself, extending a paw toward Finnick.

But he only looked at Nick and motioned toward her with an open, accusatory palm. "Who the hell is this?"

"Well, Finnick, I know those ears of yours are _rather_ small," Nick responded dryly, "but I _believe_ she just said that she's Judy Hopps." There was a pause as the fennec waited for more, and Nick suppressed a sigh. "She's my roommate."

Anyone who didn't know Finnick well would've missed the barely perceptible way that his brows lowered as his eyes narrowed. He and Nick stared hard at each other, a silent and tense conversation hurtling back and forth in the air between them.

Paw still outstretched, Judy glanced uncertainly between the two foxes before stepping back. "Um, I'll just—um—" She padded quickly to her room. "Have fun, Nick! See you later!"

Another beat passed as Nick kept his posture straight under his friend's glare.

"Let's get outta here already," Finnick finally growled as he jerked a thumb toward the front door. "You're _stupidly_ late."

With a nod, Nick went to the closet, donned his jacket, and followed Finnick out of the apartment. Once the two foxes had fallen into step side-by-side and trekked halfway down the hall, Finnick again settled a questioning, scathing gaze onto Nick.

"How long has that been goin' on?" he queried.

Nick shrugged. "Just a few days."

The fennec scoffed and shook his head. "So for the past few days, you've been keepin' a secret. An' not just _any_ secret—you got a _roommate_. An' not just _any_ roommate—a _prey_. An' not just _any_ prey—a _bunny_. An' not just _any_ bunny—a _pretty lady bunny_."

"I don't really see what her looks or gender have to do with—"

"Wilde!" Finnick growled as they entered the stairwell at the end of the hall and began descending the steps to the lobby. "You're the _brains_ of this operation! Just about everything that could damn us is in _that_ apartment! What the _hell_ are you thinkin'?!"

Shooting his friend a defensive glance, Nick replied, "We both work at Basic Instinct. She stuck up for me against the specieist manager and got me the job. She was new to Zootopia. When she found out my landlady was trying to find me a roommate, she asked if she could move in. I felt like I owed her one."

"You coulda taken her out for dinner or somethin' instead," Finnick mumbled, smacking his own forehead with a paw and letting it slide down his face. "But you let her live in your apartment. Your _apartment_ , Wilde."

Nick frowned down at him as they exited the stairwell and strode into the lobby, which, thankfully, was empty. "It's fine. I'm making it work." He almost snarled when Finnick rolled his eyes. "What, do you not trust me?"

"I don't trust _her_ , Nick!" Finnick snapped, pointing randomly at the ceiling as though he could pinpoint her from there. "She's a complete stranger. For all we know, she coulda been sent by someone to keep tabs on us."

"Okay, I seriously doubt—"

"An' even if she's totally innocent," Finnick interjected, "she could still find out something an' put _us_ in danger, put the _Den_ in danger, an' put _herself_ in danger. You sure you ready to deal with all that?"

Rather than answer directly, Nick bit out another question of his own as he shoved the lobby doors open, allowing the cool night air to collide into them. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Kick her out," Finnick answered firmly.

The thought of Judy leaving put Nick's nerves on edge so abruptly and potently that it shocked him. He schooled a neutral expression onto his face. "She's already signed a lease. I can't legally kick her out. It has to be her decision."

"Then you'll need to drive her out, make her _wanna_ leave," Finnick insisted. "Or you can leave yourself an' crash in my van until you can find another place."

"I like the one I have."

"Well, then you shoulda kept _strange mammals_ out of it!" the fennec said sharply. Then he whacked Nick's stomach with his paw, the highest point he could reach without jumping. "Need me to remind you what happened to that police officer?"

In fact, Nick did _not_ need to be reminded. Flashbacks immediately raided his mind.

 _Never again. Especially not to her._

He heaved a sigh as they both slowed to a stop outside Finnick's van. "I can't just turn her out, but believe me," he said in a low tone, more serious than he usually allowed himself to sound, "I won't let her get close."

Finnick knew him well. The smaller fox nodded curtly, dropping the subject as he sauntered around to the driver's seat. "So let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: As a reminder (because I think it was only implied in chapter one and hasn't been mentioned since), Nick and Judy's apartment is in the Sahara District. That's why they only needed to take a bus rather than a train to get to the nice view for the sunrise.**

 **Also, because I'm sure someone will ask, the reason that Finnick's code name in the Den of Thieves is "The Painter" is because I have a headcanon that he painted the design on his van and would be a painter by trade if he could.**

 **Finally, if I may vent a bit, I _haaaaaaate_ this website for its unreliable insertion of horizontal break lines. Among other things. This chapter needed a lot of those lines, but I don't have time to sit here all night inserting break lines over and over and over again until they finally stick. Please forgive me. If you'd prefer, read the fic on AO3, which is actually held together by more than the Internet equivalent of glue stick adhesives.**


	10. I Try So Hard Not To Know

**Chapter 10—I Try So Hard Not To Know**

 **A/N: Another update! YAY! I'm still an extremely busy lady, but as I said, I love writing this story, so I made time for it. :)**

 **As always, thanks to Camoss and Libious for their encouragement and help. In this particular chapter, Camoss makes a cameo! See if you can find him. :)**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

 _Day 9: Tuesday, June 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:15 p.m._

* * *

" _You got a_ what _in yer apartment, Nick?!_ "

The memory of Weaselton's nasally voice shot through Nick's mind like a squirt from a water gun on a cold day. Frowning, he turned over a bug burger patty and slammed it back against the grill a little harder than necessary. He ignored the puzzled glances of his co-workers in the Basic Instinct kitchen as he half-mouthed the response he'd given the weasel.

" _A couch, a table, a bed, some chairs—oh, and a bunny roommate. Why do you ask?"_

He sighed. With that quip, both of his friends had started shouting at him at once about his stupidity, his irresponsibility, the danger in which he'd placed himself, the Den, and even the bunny…

It had taken nearly an hour for Nick to make it clear to them that he would not cave to their demands to kick Judy out or move away from the apartment himself, though he compromised by saying that he would think about it. And by "think about it," he meant that he would ignore them and figure out some way to keep Judy around.

For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't that he could deny the possibility that having a Judy as a roommate could summon disaster for many mammals, including himself and—more importantly—her. His itching guilt was almost as strong as his determination to let her stay.

But why? How could he be so selfish?

"Nick?"

At the sound of Judy's voice, Nick hurriedly pasted a nonchalant smile and hummed his acknowledgement as he glanced up at her over the service counter.

"Are you almost ready for lunch?" she queried, violet eyes softly meeting his as she placed an order ticket in front of him.

"Sure am, Carrots," he replied breezily. Then his heart tripped over itself when she sent him a grin.

"And after work," she chirped, "the meeting with the Predators for Harmony Association!" She bounced once, twice, thrice, fists shaking excitedly in front of her chest. "I'm so excited! Are you excited? I'm excited!"

A chuckled escaped Nick's chest. "If you're excited, then I'm excited, Carrots."

"Then that means you're excited!" Judy threw her hands into the air with one more bounce. "Because in case you didn't hear me, _I'm_ excited!"

"All right, all right," Nick smirked, barely restraining a laugh, though he heard the other cooks snicker. "But for now, you should probably take your excitement over _there_ —" he pointed at the puma waving a paw at one of her tables—"so that you can excitedly serve that excited customer."

"Oh, of course!" Judy nodded and bounded away with a salute toward the fox. "See you soon, Slick!"

"Predators for Harmony Association, huh?" Andy said. The otter was standing on a stool next to Nick, stirring a pot of stew. "I've been to a couple of their meetings. I hardly see prey there. It's really cool that she wants to go."

Nick nodded and huffed a genuinely warm smile—but it faded when he reached in Greg's direction to grab a few chopped vegetables, and the ram's hoof jerked slightly away.

Both mammals maintained poker faces, but Nick caught the faint scent of fear that had tinged the air between them. It reminded him of what he had discussed with Finnick and Weaselton after they finally dropped the topic of Judy living with him. Would that press conference change anything about the way the Den should run? How could they protect the predators on the outskirts and the streets when the pushback against them had grown stronger? Was there anything to be done at all?

He tried not to let himself take out his frustration on the bug burger patties again.

* * *

 _Day 9: Tuesday, June 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 5:58 p.m._

* * *

Only when Judy laid a paw against the glass of the library door did she notice that Nick wasn't next to her. She peered over her shoulder to find him strolling toward her with his paws in his pockets. His face wore a neutral expression—so _carefully_ neutral, in fact, that Judy knew he was trying to conceal his testy mood. She had learned about many of his facial expressions over the past week. The pride and jubilance that rushed through her when she considered how well she'd already come to know him was rapidly replaced by concern; he'd been like this for most of the day. Of course, it was understandable, considering the major shift in the social and political atmosphere since Bellwether's press conference, but still…

She turned and beckoned him forward with an encouraging smile. "Come on!" she called. "Or we'll be late!"

"We'll be right on time, by normal mammals' watches," Nick replied. His pace didn't change, but Judy was gratified to see his eyes soften. She pretended not to notice.

In fact, she had been pretending not to notice a lot of things lately, but she was no dumb bunny—and because she'd been hoping for signals, she'd been watching for them. He always looked at her with a warmth that he never directed toward anyone else. He always seemed reluctant to end their hugs. In general, his touches lingered. She sometimes caught him staring at her while she was doing something else. If she listened closely, she heard his heartbeat quicken when she was close. He always seemed as happy to spend time with her as she was to spend time with him. In order to ensure that she gathered plenty of evidence of his interest before she demonstrated her reciprocation, she pretended not to notice any of these things.

As soon as he was close enough, Judy grabbed one of his paws with both of hers and pulled him forward. "Come _on_!" she exclaimed—and then she pretended not to notice the way that his thumb brushed over her grip. Just for a second.

Watching for a sign of his hesitance or disappointment when she dropped his paw before they approached the mammals—mostly predators—sitting at tables situated in the middle of the library, she suppressed a sigh of dismay when he didn't seem to react at the loss of contact.

She pretended not to notice that, either.

Nick pulled out a chair for her at one of the tables, and she sat herself in it with a polite nod. He took a seat next to her as a bespectacled male cougar stood up at the front of the room with a microphone.

"Wel—" The cougar paused to clear his throat. "Welcome to tonight's PHA meeting, everyone. Thanks for coming. Uh, first of all, do we have any newcomers today?"

Judy let her arm shoot straight up in the air as she grinned. With her other arm, she nudged Nick with a questioning expression.

He shook his head. "I've been here before, remember?"

As she started to nod, the cougar spoke again. "Oh, hey, back there!"

She snapped back to attention, jumping on top of her seat to see and be seen better. "Oh, um, yes!"

"What's your name?" the cougar asked with a kind smile.

"Judy Hopps!"

The cougar nodded at her. "Nice to meet you. We don't get too many prey mammals in here. My name's Cam."

"Hi, Cam, I'm—" Judy paused and then laughed awkwardly. "I, uh, already said my name. Never mind. Anyway, I'm happy to be here."

"Thank you," Cam grinned as she sat down. "We're happy to have you."

He launched into a string of news and announcements regarding other members of the group as Judy leaned toward Nick, her cheeks aflame.

"Well, _that_ was an embarrassing introduction," she whispered. "I guess I can come here approximately zero more times."

To her surprise, Nick's arm slid around her and squeezed her opposite shoulder. "You're fine. Happens to the best of us." Then he winked at her, which scrunched her heart into a bouncy ball that dribbled against her chest. "I, for one, thought you were adorable."

And then his arm was gone. Judy resisted the urge to complain about that. Instead, she studied him for a moment from the corner of her eye.

 _That's it, you dumb fox_ , she smiled to herself. _If you keep this up, I'm going to tell you._

With a stab of guilt for having lost her focus on the purpose of the meeting, she returned her attention to Cam, who was moving on to a new topic. "So I know that a lot of you have already noticed the change in behavior among Zootopian citizens since Mayor Bellwether's press conference. Any particular observations we want to discuss?"

At first, no one said anything. Then a tigress raised her paw.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one, but I've noticed a lot more aggression and suspicion toward predators lately," she said. "Especially toward large ones, like myself."

Predators around the room nodded, murmuring their agreement.

"Right, that's definitely the biggest thing," Cam admitted. "I've heard about predators being refused service, having their homes vandalized, things like that."

"And little things, too," an ocelot said. "Prey keep looking at you like they're worried you're gonna snap any second. They try to keep their distance without making it obvious. Makes you feel ostracized, like they've already decided what you are and don't want to do have anything to do with you."

Once again, the room buzzed with grumbles of confirmation. Predators shifted in their seats to briefly mutter about specific experiences they'd had over the past few days. Soon enough, Cam regained their attention.

"Yeah, things have definitely gotten a lot worse very quickly," he said. "So how can we—"

"But it even comes from other predators, too," a caracal suddenly interrupted. "Even other predators are wary of each other, and they don't trust _themselves_. I catch myself constantly wondering if I'm going to suddenly go crazy, watching for any signs that I'm about to lose control of myself—and other predators have told me that they're doing the same thing. We're losing sleep over it."

More hums of understanding, accompanied by tired sighs.

Cam nodded sympathetically. "Yeah. Yeah, I get that. So how can we use these changes to promote our cause? What do you think? Any ideas?"

After a pause, a lion spoke, thoughtfully stroking his mane. "Didn't Gazelle reach out to you about doing a benefit concert or something?"

As the room burst into a thrum of surprised mumbles—some sounding delighted, others less so—Cam sighed dramatically into the microphone, though he shot the lion a good-natured smirk. "You stole my thunder there, Pete."

The lion grinned back and spread his paws. "Don't blame me. You didn't need to wait so long."

With a chuckle, Cam once again addressed the room. "Yes, Gazelle has offered to do a benefit concert. She also wants to help us organize protests."

Several heavy sighs weighed down the air. "We've already tried protesting _so many times_ ," a wolf said. "They never seem to get us anywhere."

"They get other mammals talking," the ocelot from earlier remarked. "They put us in the news."

"We got to talk to the mayor once," Pete the lion piped up.

"Yeah, and then there's no follow-up," the wolf said. "Nothing really happens."

"But what else would we do?" the ocelot responded. "Protests may seem useless at first, but if we're persistent enough, we can pressure change into becoming reality."

"That doesn't always happen, though," the wolf countered. "In fact, the main problem with protests is that a lot of mammals are more likely to complain about them than to actually _listen_ to the protesters."

"Sure, but that's not _our_ problem," the ocelot retorted. "It's theirs."

"That's true," the wolf conceded. "But the fact remains that if we put our efforts toward demonstrations that they're not even going to pay attention to, then it's just a waste of time and resources."

"Okay, okay," Pete said, leaning his elbows onto the table where he sat. "So in that case, we have to think of something that they _will_ listen to."

Rolling his eyes, the wolf continued. "There's no point. If we play nice, they ignore us, or they underestimate how hurt we are. If we protest, they call us whiners. It doesn't matter what we do. They don't listen."

At that, the lion leaned back and crossed his arms. It was clear that he was trying not to keep an impatient glower off his face. "Then why are you even here?"

A smirk twitched at the corner of the wolf's mouth. "Valid question," he admitted with a one-shouldered shrug. "Sometimes, we speak out to let other hurt mammals know that they're not alone. We know that we can't change anything, so we at least bond ourselves together as tightly as possible."

For a few seconds, no one seemed to have a response to that. Then Judy hopped onto her feet on the chair in one fluid motion. "Excuse me!"

When every head swiveled toward her, she made an effort to hurriedly squash the anxiety that suddenly seized her limbs and tried to pull her down. Hiding her discomfort behind a smile, she spoke.

"Uh, I think that's a wonderful point," she said, gesturing uncertainly toward the wolf. "Great point, uh… sir. Still, mammals—well, see, I'm not originally from Zootopia, and mammals back home used to say that I don't know when to quit, and they're right. I don't think _any_ of us should quit. So—well, I've been thinking—"She glanced down at Nick, who was watching her curiously. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she continued. "What if we tried some kind of activity where we serve Zootopia _and_ give it information at the same time?"

At first, her suggestion was greeted with silence. Then Pete asked, "What do you mean?"

Cam backed him up. "Yeah, could you elaborate on that, please?"

"Uh, yes," Judy nervously tapped the tips of her fingers together. "Well, I've been—um—I've been spending a lot of time exploring Zootopia lately, and I've seen what bad shape some of the areas are in. Maybe we can have a food drive, and at the same time, we can hand out pamphlets."

"Pamphlets?" Cam repeated.

"Yeah, like, informational pamphlets about predators or something," Judy explained. "Or about biology—something like that." When the other mammals kept staring at her, she went on. "I mean, pamphlets that explain how prey and predators are similar, how they evolved into sentience together—that sort of thing."

The predators' heads bobbed as they considered this idea.

"I think we could do something like that," Cam said. "Gazelle had mentioned that she wanted to organize some kind of event tomorrow before she heads out of town for a week. I know it's last minute, but it could be doable. Andrew—" He pointed to the ocelot. "Any chance you could use your scientific expertise to make some content on evolution for pamphlets by then?"

"Why not?" the ocelot added. "Could be worth a shot. Yeah, I'll get on that tonight."

"I agree," chimed in Pete.

The wolf simply shrugged, and the other mammals in the room nodded. Giddy with relief and joy, Judy grinned around at them—and let her eyes linger on a raccoon who was gazing at her rather… admiringly. The raccoon looked familiar, but before she tried to figure out why, she let her eyes flick away. A blush blossomed on her cheeks as she sat back down.

Then she turned to Nick to ask what he thought about her idea, but the question faded in her throat. He was already beaming at her with the most openly affectionate expression she'd ever seen him wear. It seemed that her heart had burst into joyous song at the sight of it.

 _If I didn't know better, Slick, I'd say you were begging for a kiss_ , she mused as she smooshed one cheek against her palm, returning his smile. _Fortunately, I'm eager to give you one._

* * *

 _Day 9: Tuesday, June 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:40 p.m._

* * *

In short order, Cam had delegated assignments to various group members, assuring that there would be pamphlets, boxes for food, flyers, and mammals to post the flyers. Additionally, the librarian promised them that they could use the library again. Judy volunteered to arrive early to help set up. Nick said nothing, but he furtively texted Finnick under the table to inform him of the event. It could be something that would interest the Den, or at least his little subgroup.

After the details had been worked out, the mammals were treated to a very pleasant surprise.

"There's _cake_ , Nick!" Judy gasped at the table that had been rolled into the room. It held various paper plates topped with white cake with raspberry filling, accompanied by dainty plastic forks.

The millisecond after the librarian finished warning the group that they could lose the privilege of using the building if they left even a single crumb on the floor, Judy bounded toward the table. Nick watched her quietly for a moment, not moving from his seat.

He'd tried to focus. He really had. But he'd been to these meetings before. They always went the same way. Come to think of it, they'd been going the same way that the Den of Thieves meetings always seemed to go these days.

But when Judy stammered out her idea—not a perfect one, certainly not a guaranteed step in the right direction, but still, an idea—Nick was jolted out of his reverie. He listened as she fought through her nervousness so that she could participate and offer support. She was sincere. She was trying. She cared.

As he watched her, he'd asked himself again why he kept her close, knowing what it could do to them both.

And then, when she'd turned toward him and smiled, he realized.

By joining the Den of Thieves, he'd proven his willingness to put himself in danger every day just to feel like he belonged somewhere and had a purpose.

The last nine days with Judy had given him that sense of belonging and purpose that he'd been seeking—far more powerfully than the Den or anyone else had. Of course he was willing to put himself in danger to keep her, too.

He sighed, sure that his face looked as sagged as his soul felt.

Just because he was willing to place his own safety at risk didn't mean he had the right to do the same for her.

Finnick and Weaselton were right. He had to—

Wait. Wait just a second.

Who was that raccoon who was sidling up next to Judy with that… that _smirk_ on his face?

Unconsciously glaring, Nick strode over to the table, delightedly munching on cake while the raccoon talked to her with a big, stupid grin on his face, like he was actually worthy to so much as look at her pinky with his naked eyes, like he had the kind of capacity in his brain to—

"I'm Lars," the raccoon was saying to Judy as Nick approached and nonchalantly stopped next to Judy.

"I'm Judy," the bunny replied, holding out her paw. As Lars shook it, she chuckled and shook her head in embarrassment. "Aaaand that's the _third_ time that I've introduced myself tonight. Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Lars said, letting his paw hold hers for just a touch longer than necessary. "I think it's cute."

Nick hoped he could hide the burning in his ears by pouring all of his attention into figuring out which of the identical cake slices would be perfect for him to take. He spared a quick glance toward Judy, but she was merely smiling amiably at Lars. When her eyes flicked toward his, he immediately looked away.

"I also really liked your idea," Lars went on.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Judy responded sweetly, prompting Nick to stab his cake with his fork. Crumbs flew in a few different directions, but no one seemed to notice except him.

And Lars was _still_ talking. "It's a great idea that we haven't tried before. It would spread information, just like protesting does, but maybe in a more, like, palatable way, you know?"

Nick rolled his eyes. _No kidding. Think that's why she suggested it?_

"Yes, that's why I suggested it," Judy nodded, and Nick allowed himself a small, triumphant smirk.

Lars pointed at the bunny with his own fork. "You know, something else that I'd been thinking about—and I realize this might be crazy, but—" He paused to stuff a bite of cake into his mouth and swallow as he looked at the ceiling with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. "But I think it would be great to have Crossfire on our side."

Judy's ear twitched with interest as Nick turned to fully face the raccoon.

"Really?" Judy said.

"Yeah," answered Lars. "I met her once. She saved me from a couple of rhinos who got mad at me when I accidentally wandered into their turf or something. They were the rhinos in that video that went viral. Lots of mammals love her. If she spoke for us, I'm sure they'd listen."

"So…" Judy was staring raptly at him, and Nick tried not to frown. "So you like her, too? I did see her on TV, and I thought she was interesting."

" _Like_ her?" Lars sighed dreamily as he set his empty plate onto the table. "Crossfire is one of the most _amazing_ mammals I've ever met. I haven't stopped thinking about her ever since I met her." Then he shot Judy a charming smile. "Even so, if she were standing next to you right now, I'd have a hard time choosing which one of you to ask out first."

Nick glanced again at Judy. He couldn't tell if the elated expression on her face was inspired by the raccoon's comments or her fascination with the vigilante. Either way, he was finding it difficult to keep from grinding his teeth.

"Speaking of which," Lars plowed on like the idiot he clearly was, "I was hoping you might be free this Friday night. I'd like to take you somewhere nice."

At that, Nick tossed his plate into a nearby trash can a little more forcefully than he intended. He immediately regretted it when he remembered that there was still cake on it.

When he looked back at Judy, he froze. She was directing a strangely sly smirk at him.

But it only lasted a moment. She turned to Lars again.

"That's so flattering," she said warmly. "But I'm afraid that I'm taken."

A couple of icy beats passed as Nick tried to get his heart beating again.

 _Taken?_

"Oh, well, he's a lucky mammal," Lars replied graciously, though his grin faltered.

 _Taken?_

"Well, I'm very lucky, too," Judy said. Gosh, that smile was so lovely, but…

 _Taken?_

"Of course," Lars responded. Then he started to turn away. "Well, again, it was nice to meet you, Judy. Maybe you'll let me know if you ever change your mind."

"I sure will, Lars," Judy nodded. "Nice to meet you. Take care." Then she pivoted to face Nick. Her mischievous smirk was back, and she clasped her paws behind her back as she swung her shoulders from side to side. "Ready to go home, Slick?"

 _Taken? By who?_

But Nick made sure that the question that was burning a hole in his mind wasn't manifesting in a single atom of his face. He kept his eyes half-lidded, his mouth lazily curved upward on one end—his favorite mask. "Sure am, Carrots."

In a few minutes, he had followed her outside in a sort of daze. Silence hung between them as they walked next to each other in the direction of their apartment, several blocks away.

Finally, Nick heaved a deep, quiet breath.

"So…" he said as he stuffed his paws in his pockets and kicked a pebble without pausing to watch it skitter. "You've never mentioned anything about a boyfriend. Some nice buck back home in Bunnyburrow, is it?"

Judy blinked up at him. "Huh?"

Furtively clenching his teeth in frustration, Nick tried again. "What you said to Lars back there—you said you were taken." He forced a casual sigh to brush past his lips. "Haven't seen anyone else around you here in Zootopia, so I assume it's a buck waiting for you back in Bunnyburrow." He hesitated. "Or maybe not _waiting_ , since you're staying _here_ , but—" Suddenly, he noticed Judy's amused half-smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her. She couldn't possibly know how irritated this topic was making him feel, so his next word came out a little more curtly than he intended. " _What_?"

Shaking her head with a shrug, Judy appeared unfazed by Nick's mood and answered affably. "Oh, I don't have a boyfriend."

Nick furrowed his brows. "You said you were taken," he repeated.

"I am," Judy said, then leaned toward him conspiratorially. "I'm taken _with_ someone."

It took a moment for Nick to blink away his consternation before he offered her an impressed smirk. "Sly bunny."

"Dumb fox," she returned, lightly bumping her hip against his thigh. He stumbled more from the strength of his relief than from the force of her weight. His legs were jelly while his chest felt feathery light, and he almost wanted to laugh.

But wait.

The stone settled in his heart once again.

 _Still taken._

"Taken with who, then?" he inquired.

Judy hummed. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know?"

"That _would_ be why I asked," Nick frowned. "I don't know about you, but I generally only ask questions when I want them answered."

"I'll tell you what," Judy said, skipping ahead and turning to walk backwards in front of him with her paws clasped behind her back. "I'll answer your question if you answer mine."

Nick raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay, shoot."

Lifting one shoulder coquettishly against her cheek, Judy grinned and asked, "Why do you want to know who it is?"

A few seconds passed as Nick made sure that his expression was schooled perfectly to suggest a harmless sense of unattached curiosity. "Are you saying that I must have an ulterior motive, Fluff?"

"Are you saying that you don't?"

 _She suspects something._

The jolt of alarm that stumbled through Nick's gut was all it took to remind him why he'd needed to starve this crush in the first place. Why hadn't he done it? What was he thinking? She'd made it so easy for him to relax and gradually give into it, but…

He cursed himself for letting his guard down and sinking so deeply. It was only fun and games until she knew that she was playing. Now the game was even _more_ dangerous—to both of them.

Especially to her.

Slowly, he came to a stop. So did Judy, and her cheerful, self-satisfied smile faded as she watched him. Nick wondered what he must look like when he had to pretend this hard that he didn't care about what he would say next. Judging by the confusion and dismay in her eyes, he must be pulling it off well. Perhaps too well.

"I'm saying that you should stop thinking what you're thinking," he said quietly. Then he stepped deftly around her and picked up his pace. "And forget I asked."

Once he was several paces in front of her, he heard her call after him in a small, uncertain voice.

"Nick? I'm sorry if I…"

He gritted his teeth, balled his fists in his pockets, and kept walking.

* * *

 _Day 9: Tuesday, June 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:33 p.m._

* * *

Judy didn't keep track of the time as she sat by herself at the little table she'd taken at a nearby coffee shop, watching the swirls of the cream in her coffee as she gently stirred them over and over again. Absentmindedly, she took a bite from her half-eaten cream cheese Danish.

Nick's reaction was… unexpected. The way his eyes had hardened, the way his easygoing smile had disappeared… He may as well have impaled her through her gut with an icicle. She shook her head, rubbing a paw through the fur on her forehead as she felt heat igniting her cheeks. It was as devastating as it was mortifying. Had she been _that_ wrong about him?

 _Just think about something else_ , she told her. _Remember what he said—don't let them see that they get to you. Don't let_ him _see that he gets to you._

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

 _Don't let_ anyone _see. Not even yourself._

Then she exhaled, pursed her lips, and picked up her phone. She stared at the notification she had put in her calendar app about the food drive that the PHA would organize tomorrow.

Biting her claws thoughtfully, she read the words once, twice, and thrice. As happy as she was that her idea had been accepted by the PHA, she couldn't help thinking that it was too little, too late. They had hardly any time to put together an event that could really catch the citizens' attention, even with Gazelle's help.

Lars had mentioned that Crossfire could be a great ally for the PHA. Judy smirked to herself as she realized that she was inclined to agree with him.

Maybe it was a crazy idea to consider, but as she fought to push Nick's stony face from her mind, "crazy" sounded pretty great at the moment.

* * *

 _Day 9: Tuesday, June 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:33 p.m._

* * *

Sighing heavily, Nick closed the apartment door and slumped against it. Judy hadn't come home with him. The vast majority of his body was screaming to run back outside, to find her, to apologize, to say that he was "taken with" her, too, to… maybe lift her feet off the ground, spin her around, and see what a bunny's lips taste like.

But with the discipline that he'd spent twenty years honing as a hustler and criminal, he clenched and unclenched his fists, stomping down all those desires until they were more like distant shouts in some far-off dungeon of his mind.

When he was sure that he could keep his voice steady, he whipped his cell phone from his pocket and called Finnick.

" _What?_ " the fennec answered in his usual rough tone. His familiar coarseness was almost comforting.

"You saw my text?" Nick inquired casually.

"Yeah," his friend replied. "What're you thinkin'?"

With a shrug, Nick lightly kicked himself away from the front door and ambled into his bedroom. "Well, we were trying to figure out something to do to fight back after Bellwether's press conference. I think this food drive would be a great opportunity."

* * *

 **A/N: OH NO THEIR LOVE IS THWARTED FOREVER WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DOOOOOOO**

 **Well, hold onto your hats. Remember that we're just barely over halfway through. ;) And I'm already about a quarter of the way through the next chapter, so definitely stay tuned!**


	11. My Soul Surrenders

**Chapter 11—My Soul Surrenders**

 **A/N: So** **sorry about the pause. I didn't mean for it to be so long, but I've had a** _ **looooooot**_ **of twelve- to fifteen-hour work days and family obligations lately. Plus, I very stupidly got sick.**

 **However, for several awesome reasons, I have a personal goal to post one new chapter per week until the story is finished. I'm planning on nineteen chapters total, so that means that we'll hopefully wrap this up in a couple months.**

 **Let's see how I do. :)**

 **Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for the last one. :D It felt rushed to me, but at least it's written. And once again, you can thank Camoss and Libious for polishing it up and suggesting things to improve. Seriously, those guys are quality. I'm the luckiest.**

 **Oh! And I realize that I am** _ **way**_ **behind in responding to comments, so I will _try_ to get caught up with that this weekend.**

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:15 a.m._

* * *

 _How many different species of ants are there? Whatever, I don't actually care._

 _Which mammals are most likely to learn how to ride a unicycle? Wait, why am I even wondering about that? It doesn't matter._

 _Okay, let's see… Is ice cream an acceptable breakfast food? There was that study that said it's actually a great way to start the day. Maybe I should ask…_

Nick's thoughts trailed into the familiar pit of despondency in which his mind had been wallowing since last night. From the corner of his eye, he peered at Judy, who was keeping several feet of distance between them as they walked silently to work. Neither had spoken more than a few words to each other since they'd woken up after remaining apart for the rest of the night. So far, Nick had spent the entire journey to the restaurant trying desperately to think of anything _except_ for the wedge that he'd driven between him and his roommate.

It wasn't working.

 _Here's a question for you, idiot_ , he sighed to himself as he returned his attention to the pavement. _How many feet away does a bunny have to be in order to depress a fox?_

Before he could let himself answer that question, he shook his head slightly.

 _Don't let them see that they get to you_ , he chanted mentally. _Don't let them see that they get to you. Think about something else. Think about…_

Judy's tiny sneeze distracted him. He glanced toward her again and felt his heart stir itself into mush when she dabbed at her adorably twitching nose. She didn't look at him, but he admired her for a moment longer.

Then, settling for staring at the sidewalk stretching before him, he returned to his thought. _Okay, let's think about what I'd say to her if I could. I'd tell her that there isn't a single thing about her that I don't adore. I'd tell her that all I need to feel comforted and motivated is to look at her eyes. I'd tell her that there's definitely part of me that absolutely_ lives _for her smile and her laugh. I'd tell her that I'm glad she didn't let me discourage her from her dreams, because her tenacity is actually inspiring, and I wouldn't change it. I'd tell her that I absolutely love that she's equally caring and brave. I love how hard she tries at everything she does, I love how she keeps me on my toes, I love how she can be both silly and smart, I love how she thinks big, I love how badly she dances, I love what a friend she is to me… Then I'd beg her to please understand that I'm trying to keep her safe and to please forgive me for that._

At that point, they reached the front doors of Basic Instinct. He held one open for her and consciously held his gaze over her head as she passed.

Judy didn't look back at him as she padded to the office to clock in. Nick pretended to be distracted by a cheesy poster advertising the restaurant's newest sundae until she came out. Then he clocked in himself and took his position at the kitchen grill, already hot.

It took a second for him to realize that Andy kept glancing at him with a raised brow.

"May I help you?" Nick queried sardonically.

"What's up with you and Judy?" Andy asked.

Allowing himself to sigh, Nick cracked a couple egg yolks onto the grill and stirred them together with a spatula before answering. "Not sure what you mean. We're both our usual peppy selves."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Have a lovers' quarrel?"

Nick nearly dropped the spatula as his heart momentarily sped up in a panic. "Excuse me?"

The otter paused. He actually looked embarrassed. "Sorry, I thought you two were dating."

For a while, Nick couldn't find a way to respond. How much had he let his guard down? How obvious was he? It wasn't like him to be so transparent.

"We're not dating," he finally grumbled, pushing the scrambled eggs to the side before starting another batch.

Before Andy could continue the conversation, the bell hanging on the door jingled. Nick soon found himself staring at a leanly muscled, dark-maned lion and a female antelope with a soft, pretty face, stepping into the restaurant with their arms interlocked. It took a second for Nick to recognize them from the 8x10 picture hanging on the wall across from the table where he and Judy often had lunch together—Brady and Lila Maneford, the owners.

Yannis was soon scurrying to greet them. The smile that he plastered onto his face was strained from lack of use. As they chatted, Nick noticed that Judy had paused in the act of cleaning tables to watch them. When her eyes flicked toward Nick and caught him staring, she hurriedly looked away, pursing her lips and rubbing the tables with her cloth more vigorously than before.

Something about it made Nick's stomach crumple, and before he could think to control himself, his ears folded behind his head and his tail drooped. With a sigh, he looked back at Brady and Lila—and froze when he was met with Lila's steady gaze and gentle smile.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:23 p.m._

* * *

Everyone in the restaurant stayed on their best behavior all morning as Brady and Lila spoke with Yannis about preparing for an upcoming inspection. Much of Nick's time had been spent splitting his focus between cooking, trying to catch Judy's attention, berating himself for trying to catch Judy's attention, watching for any sign that she still had warm feelings toward him, and chastising himself for wanting her to have warm feelings toward him. When it was time for lunch, Judy was nowhere to be found. One of the other waitresses mentioned that she had already clocked out for her break and left.

So Nick, each footstep feeling like a heavy sigh, trudged to the table that he normally shared with Judy and sat down slowly, determined not to plop and further reveal his emotional exhaustion to everyone. He dug his bug sandwich out of his paper lunch bag.

And then Lila slid across from him, hooves under her chin.

Nick blinked. She smiled.

"Please don't let me interrupt you," Lila said lightly, motioning at his food. Her eyes crinkled. "So. You're new here."

"Um…" Nick mumbled as he closed his mouth around the sandwich. "Kind of."

"I'm Lila Maneford. My husband and I own Basic Instinct."

"Mmhmm."

"And you are?"

Nick swallowed. "Nick Wilde. I'm a cook."

The antelope's smile grew sweeter. "And a friend of Judy's? I even heard you're roommates."

The fox wasn't sure how to answer that. He shrugged and slowly tore another bite from the sandwich, eyeing the antelope warily.

"She's an absolutely lovely bunny," Lila continued. "She has a way of making you feel like you've been friends for years even when you've just met. And she's such a hard worker. We've only had her here for a few weeks, but I hope she stays a long time."

Nodding, Nick kept his mouth occupied with food so that his lack of interest in connecting with the antelope wouldn't be too obvious.

"Anyway, just wanted to introduce myself," Lila said, leaning back. "I always like to get to know our employees, but I'm sure you'd just like to get back to your lunch. But you know," she plowed on, and Nick suppressed the groan of a mammal who thought he'd been liberated from torture only to have his hopes smashed to a pulp, "my husband and I—oh, my husband's name is Brady, you know—he and I met _years_ ago when we were both working at the same little café. We connected so quickly, and love just happened so… _naturally_. You know what I mean, right?"

Nick wordlessly sipped some water through a straw.

"Of course you do," Lila chuckled.

Nick stopped sipping to narrow his eyes suspiciously at her.

She kept talking, either oblivious or uncaring. "Obviously, everyone told us that it wouldn't work. Predator, prey… They don't make good romantic couples, especially not when they were natural enemies in the stone ages. We were bound to fall apart, get hurt—that's what everyone said. But…" She paused to cast an affectionate glance toward the nearby 8x10 photograph of her and the lion. "More than ten years later, I haven't had a single unhappy moment." Her eyes returned to Nick's. "We've had hard times, yes, and bad days, but there's always been pure happiness."

For a moment, the fox and antelope simply gazed at each other, Nick's expression carefully blank.

"My point is," Lila smiled warmly again, "that even though there are plenty of valid reasons to be scared, there's an equal number of reasons to move forward anyway. If your heart is right, fear can't stop you from accomplishing amazing things." She leaned forward with a smirk. "Other mammals may call you crazy, but you'd be surprised how often craziness is just the purest sanity in disguise."

With that, she stood and patted Nick's shoulder. "I hope you do something crazy, Nick." She turned and walked toward the office. "And welcome to Basic Instinct."

The fox watched her go, slowly sucking more water from his glass. "Weird," he muttered to himself once he lost sight of her.

His phone vibrated. Drawing it out of his pocket, he raised his brows when he saw a message from Finnick.

" _Wanna meet up after work and talk shop?_ " it read.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 5:01 p.m._

* * *

As Judy hurried toward the office, she only narrowly managed to avoiding bumping into Nick by jumping out of the way as he stepped into the hallway, keeping her eyes averted from his. Quickly, she went into the office, clocked out, and trotted outside. She only stopped to take a breath when she was a few blocks away from the restaurant, pressing her back against the wall of a bistro.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head at herself. Obviously, she couldn't avoid Nick forever. But for as long as possible, she would.

For now, did some quick math in her head. She would need to be home around 6:30 if she wanted enough time to get showered and ready for the event with the Predators for Harmony Association. An hour-and-a-half wasn't much time to make the world a better place, but it was a distraction.

She pushed herself away from the wall and ran into an empty alley right next to the bistro. Holding her breath, she scrambled into an empty dumpster, extracting her Crossfire outfit from her bag, changing into it, and leaping back out before she needed to inhale. Then she wall-kicked her way up to the roof of the bistro and started looking for trouble.

One thing was certain—prey were getting bolder in expressing their hatred of predators. Judy spent her crimefighting time breaking up fights between them. She couldn't always tell who started them, but it was obvious that the preys' taunting and provocations didn't help matters.

After successfully stopping a particularly brutal one between an elephant and a couple of tigers, Judy called an ambulance so that someone could treat their injuries before plopping against the wall of the same alley where she had changed earlier. She took a few minutes to steady her breathing and rested her forehead on her knees. Although she technically had another ten minutes before she would need to head back to her apartment, her body was tired. Her heart was tired. She was just _tired_.

Eyeing the dumpster, she sighed that she didn't have a more convenient place to change at the moment. Once again, she kept her lungs filled with air as she donned her regular clothes and then hopped back out. Shoulders slumping, she neared the corner of the alley. Maybe she would—

The sound of Nick's voice made her ear twitch. Jolting herself upright, she blinked as her nose twitched. She heard it again. Slowly, she crouched and peeked around the corner of the alley.

Nick. He was there. Sitting at a table at the bistro with his back to her. Across from him was that friend of his—the surly little fennec who had interrupted their pillow fort night.

"I'm just a little worried," Nick was saying to the fennec—Finnick, wasn't it? Finnick the fennec? How odd.

"About the bunny?" Finnick clarified.

"About Judy, yes," Nick affirmed, forced patience in his tone.

Finnick snorted. "Not sure you could hurt her worse than you already did."

Judy's ears collapsed behind her head. She kept her eyes fixed on Nick, who was silent as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Ya realize how stupid it is that this is even a problem in the first place, right?" Finnick said as he slurped whatever was in his mug. "A bunny an' a fox together?"

Nick sighed. "I don't think it's stupid."

"Course you don't," Finnick gestured at him with the mug, a mocking smirk crawling across his face. " 'Cause ya like her, too. Ya wanted to sweep her off her feet. Literally, probably."

At that, Judy's ears swung upward, perked and angled toward the conversation.

"Well," Nick shrugged, and Judy's heart started ramming against her chest as she waited for his response. "Yes, I do, all right? I… like her. But it doesn't matter. She can do better than a fox like me."

The two foxes fell quiet then, but it wouldn't have mattered if they'd started yelling at each other. All Judy could hear was the angel choirs singing in her ears. Grinning, she swung herself back into the alley and kicked her feet in the air, barely suppressing a squeal. Suddenly frothing with more energy than she could possibly contain, she shot upward and sprinted in the direction of the apartment she shared with the fox.

 _He_ does _like me!_ The thought danced through her mind as she bounded down the sidewalk. _He_ does _like me! He's just worried about us being interspecies!_

She beamed at the sky.

 _But I'm not letting that stop us!_

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:29 p.m._

* * *

"I should've stopped this whole thing sooner," Nick admitted, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. "I don't want her getting mixed up with the Den."

Finnick shrugged. "Told ya. Shoulda kicked her out before now. Shoulda never let her in."

"Yeah, thanks," Nick sighed irritably, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "I'll keep your advice in mind the next time I get a bunny roommate."

Gulping down the last of his coffee, Finnick chuckled. "Nah. We both know ya don't listen to me."

"Anyway," Nick said as he sipped at the dregs of his latte, "we're agreed, right? Whatever happens tonight at the event, Judy won't be harmed?"

The fennec waved a paw. "Sure, sure. Not like we really want to hurt anyone anyway. Not this time."

Nick nodded and stood. "Okay, then I'll see you there. I'd better shower at home first."

"I'll call you when we're all set up," Finnick replied.

The two foxes casually saluted each other as Nick sauntered away, paws in his pockets. Part of him yearned to hurry home and see his bunny roommate, smile into those amazing violet eyes. Part of him would rather sleep on the streets than see the pain or indifference when they were directed toward him.

But duty called.

So he trudged down the sidewalks, through the lobby of the complex, and then up the stairs to his apartment. The door was unlocked, which meant that Judy was home. He hung his head, inhaled, exhaled, and stepped inside.

And he halted when he looked up to see Judy leaning against the dinner table, arms loosely folded, one ankle crossed over the other. She was wearing a sly smirk, but what really caught Nick's attention was the heat in her eyes. Is that what they call a smolder? In fact, her entire being seemed to ooze with it.

"Judy," he said dumbly.

"Hi, Nick," she replied warmly. After a moment, she lightly pushed herself away from the table. "Listen, I've been thinking—you know that I like you."

Immediately, Nick's heart hammered in his chest like a wildly vibrating alarm. "Um… Do you? I mean—"

"You know that's what I was getting at last night," Judy interrupted, stepping closer. Nick determinedly kept his eyes away from her slowly swaying hips.

"Were—uh, were you?" Nick stammered.

"Nick," Judy said, arching a brow.

The fox blinked at her. "Okay, yes, I knew that's what you were getting at."

With a satisfied nod, Judy kept moving toward him. "So why didn't you admit that you like me, too?"

"I—" Nick hesitated. His mind scrambled to find more words, _any_ words, but it was hard to think around the fact that her entire scintillating being was inches away from him. "It's—it's hard to explain."

"Look," Judy said quietly as she came to a stop. "I know that it might be complicated, but I want to give this a chance." The sincerity in her gaze melted him even more than her loveliness. "If there's something stopping you, let me know so that we can talk about it. Please."

Nick's throat was tight while his brain collapsed under the weight of all the responses he wanted to give. Wide-eyed, he stared down at the bunny and the open, steady warmth in her expression.

He licked his lips nervously. "Judy, I—I'm _eight years_ older than you."

"That would be interesting if I thought it mattered," she hummed.

"I'm…" He cleared his throat anxiously. "I'm also a fox."

"Really."

"And a predator."

"Mmhmm."

"And—and I'm also…" Nick trailed off.

Judy's heated violet eyes gazed expectantly at him. Heaven help him, but those eyes were huge and deep enough to swallow his whole soul, and that's exactly what he felt was happening.

Slowly, she tilted her head, stretching her neck just enough to be tantalizing. Her lips parted invitingly, paws clasped daintily behind her back. She looked so deliciously coy, yet alluringly confident. How did she _do_ that?

Suddenly, Lila's words shot through Nick's mind. _I hope you do something crazy, Nick._

 _Crazy_ …

"You're also…?" Judy whispered, watching him intently.

"Crazy about you," Nick finished his sentence huskily at the same moment that he lunged forward, cupped her face in his paws, and crashed his lips against hers.

The effect was immediate. They threw their arms around each other, grasping whatever fur they could find, searching each other's mouths with their tongues. Warm electricity surged between them, driving Nick's heart to pump furiously and his blood to rage with a sense of need. He lifted Judy by her hips, carried her into his bedroom, and pushed her against the nearest wall. She took only a moment to gasp before she began nipping vigorously at his neck and shoulders. Shuddering and groaning, he ran his teeth gently along the rims of her ears, which left her panting. Her rapidly spiking scent was numbing his mind against any thought except the urgency of feeling and kissing every inch of her. He kept her balanced against the wall with one arm while his other paw slipped under the back of her shirt. The sensation of combing his fingers through her soft, bare fur drew a hungry whimper from deep in his throat.

"Nick," Judy breathed hotly against his neck, as though answering the sound. "I think we…"

Rather than finishing her sentence, she wriggled nimbly from his grasp and then shoved him backward onto his bed. At first, she collapsed on top of him and resumed uniting their muzzles, but she didn't resist when Nick rolled over and pinned her under him.

Judy was so small, and yet so strong. He could feel it. Utterly entranced, Nick intertwined the fingers of one paw with hers and kept kissing her deeply while letting a claw in his free paw slide lightly and slowly from the crook of her neck to her shoulder to her waist to her hip to her knee, outlining her form in his fascinated mind. She shivered and arched maddeningly against him, reaching under his shirt with both paws to explore his chest fur and prompting him to growl into her mouth and clutch her hip.

Dimly, Nick was aware that with one word from her lips, he would give himself to her entirely.

And that was when his phone rang.

It was Finnick's ring tone, of course. The obnoxious noise cut through the air and rapped on the doors of his consciousness, reminding him that he couldn't ignore it. Not this time. He wanted to snarl at it, shout something like "I know, I know!" or "Go away, I'm busy!" Gradually, though, he allowed his senses to return, panting heavily and slipping his arms under Judy's shoulders and head to cradle her firmly against him, halting both their movements while he waited for his body to calm down. He knew that he wouldn't be able to tear himself away from her soon enough to answer the phone before it went to voicemail, and sure enough, it fell silent a full minute before he could bring himself to draw back and look at her. She appeared dazed, disappointed, and delighted all at once, a combination that tugged an affectionate smile onto his face.

"I'm really sorry," he said hoarsely, "but that's probably my friend. I have to call him back."

"Do you really?" Judy inquired softly, reaching up to play with the fur on the back of his neck.

Nick carefully avoided her eyes, knowing that if he met them, the chances of stopping himself from taking things much, _much_ further were very slim. Now that he was thinking a little more clearly, he was aware of many reasons why he was not prepared to do that, and one of them was the fact that he had some urgent hustling to do. He simply nodded and, with a grunt, lifted himself from the bed and retrieved him cell phone from his back pocket.

"He told me there was a possibility that he'd pay me to help fix his computer tonight." Nick was surprised by how easily the lie left his tongue, especially so soon after that… experience. "As you may guess, I really need the extra income."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Judy sigh heavily and fling one arm across her eyes as the rest of her body lay limply on the bed. Smirking, Nick leaned down to plant one last chaste kiss on her muzzle. She returned it and moved her arm away so that she could look at him.

"I promise we'll resume later," Nick whispered, gratified to see her smile fondly at him in response.

"I'll hold you to that, Slick," she smirked.

"As long as I get to hold _you_ ," he replied, knowing that it was a rather lame joke but unable to summon the self-consciousness to care. She giggled anyway.

After briefly nuzzling her shoulder and taking in her scent, Nick straightened and sauntered away, dialing Finnick's number as soon as he was in the living room.

"Hope you have a good reason for missin' my call," Finnick growled once he picked up.

"Sure do," Nick quipped. When he didn't elaborate further, Finnick huffed an irritated sigh.

"Well, everything's ready," the little fox snapped. "So get over here."

"I'll be there soon," Nick assured him and hung up. "Right after a cold shower," he then muttered to himself.

As soon as he took a few steps toward the bathroom, however, he noticed the light was on beneath the closed door, and he heard the showerhead start running. One quick sniff told him that Judy was in there. Unbidden and unhelpful images threatened to flood Nick's mind, and he scrambled to shove them away and think about something else.

"Never mind, shower later," he mumbled, blushing and hurrying to his dresser to grab some musk mask, which he sprayed generously all over his body. He could only hope it was enough to suppress his scent _and_ hers. Then he gathered his duffle bag from the secret compartment in his closet and rushed out of the apartment to ensure that he wouldn't be anywhere near it when Judy emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

With every step that he took, he smiled a little wider.

* * *

 **Random A/N: My parents were eight years apart, so the age difference between Nick and Judy has never bothered me much. I'm sometimes surprised by how much it seems to bother other people.**

 **I always imagine the chorus of "Not Strong Enough" bursting into the background at the second when they start kissing.**

 **Speaking of which, the make-out scene was probably the closest that I will ever get to writing a lemon, so don't expect any mature stuff from me in the future. :)**

 **P.S. There really was an actual scientific study that suggested ice cream is a great breakfast food because it lets us start our day in a happy mood. ;)**


	12. Like a Bullet's Path

**Chapter 12—Like a Bullet's Path**

 **A/N: I DID IT! I met a deadline that I set for myself! :D :D :D YAY ME!**

 **Uh, fair warning… Some kind of dark stuff is covered in this chapter.**

 **By the way, if you don't remember Killshot, he was introduced in chapter nine. And if you forgot about the caracal, he had a brief scene in chapter five. Nick purposely sneezed into his bowl of fried cicadas for sexually harassing Judy.**

 _ **Mountains**_ **of thanks to Camoss and Libious, who graciously reviewed this chapter immediately even though I threw it at them only twelve hours before intending to post it. You guys are** _ **amazing**_ **to me.**

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:00 p.m._

* * *

"Hi, welcome!" Judy chirped as she handed a pamphlet to a passerby. Behind her, other members of the Predators for Harmony Association were setting a few more boxes along a line of tables in front of the library. Each box was labeled with the name of a district and was large enough to hold several pounds of food.

The capybara before her took the pamphlet slowly, eyeing it warily. "What is this?"

"We're having a food drive for areas of Zootopia that are primarily populated by marginalized predators!" Judy replied cheerily, then pointed at the pamphlet. "This is some information about how predators evolved sentience alongside prey. We're trying to encourage everyone to work together."

Quirking a brow at her, the capybara stuffed the pamphlet into his back pocket with a sigh. "I take it you haven't been paying attention to the news?"

Judy wondered if her smile looked as stiff as she suddenly felt. "We're aware of the situation with predators going savage, but that's no reason not to help them."

"Something in their biology is making this happen," the capybara said, looking at the bunny grimly. "They could turn on us at any second. _Literally_ any second. You realize that, right?"

When she actually stopped to consider the possibility, Judy's blood chilled. But she made herself shrug. "Biology or no biology, they still deserve to eat." She nodded at the capybara as she started to make her way toward other approaching prey mammals. "Just feel free to bring over some food to donate, okay? Hey!" she called out to a deer couple, holding out a pamphlet to them. "Welcome!"

As she conversed with the mammals, she couldn't help subtly casting glances around the crowd, hoping that her gaze would fall upon a certain pair of black-tipped orange ears, or a fluffy black-tipped orange tail, or—best of all—two vibrant green eyes.

She blushed when she remembered what had happened just before coming here.

And she hoped that he would make her blush again.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:10 p.m._

* * *

"Isn't it kinda late for somethin' like this?" Finnick grumbled as he fiddled with some wires that he'd plugged between his laptop and a projector they'd stolen from inside the library.

"It was the only time they had available," Nick said as he peeked over the edge of the roof at the crowd milling near the library across the street. "Gazelle is a busy mammal."

Finnick snorted and mumbled something Nick's ears couldn't quite catch, but since it was probably something rude, he didn't care to ask. Instead, he scanned the crowd below until he found a certain gray bunny. As expected, she was practically bouncing from mammal to mammal, chatting and handing out pamphlets. He was aware of how his tail wagged for a moment as he smiled warmly. Somehow, he couldn't help quietly humming a merry little tune.

"I'm gonna choose to believe that this good mood o' yours is 'cause you kicked that bunny out," Finnick interjected at a pointedly loud volume.

"Believe whatever you want, big guy," Nick responded nonchalantly, resting his cheek on his forearms as he kept watching the bunny.

Then a movement snagged his attention. A disturbingly familiar movement.

He bolted upright, ears pinning themselves to the back of his head. Although the hyena was covered from head to toe in a mask and black clothing, Nick had spent years in the Den of Thieves getting to know those mannerisms.

Killshot.

Killshot was lurking in an alley near the library.

It took a moment for him to find his voice, which was colored with both dread and restrained fury. "Did you tell _Killshot_ about this?" he asked without turning his head toward his friend.

Finnick didn't answer immediately. "I knew you would get upset, but I figured we could use the backup. And he's interested in this sort of thing."

"Of course he is," Nick snarled. "Plenty of _prey_ to hurt."

He could almost _hear_ Finnick rolling his eyes as he replied. "He ain't gonna hurt anyone. I made it clear that we're not here for that."

"After what he did to that police officer, you'll understand if I'm not inclined to trust him," Nick retorted.

"That was a _year_ ago."

"And?" Nick spun around to face the fennec. "It's not like he's _changed_ since then."

Sparing him a quick narrow-eyed glance as he unraveled a couple wires, Finnick sighed heavily. "Like I said, I told him—"

"And since when does he follow anybody's orders but his own? Or Big's?" Nick interjected. He jabbed a finger inches away from his friend's face. "If he hurts anyone, and _especially_ if he hurts Judy, I'll—"

"You'll deal with it, 'cause the alternative is outin' yourself as a member o' the Den o' Thieves and gettin' us all put in jail or worse!" Finnick barked, shoving Nick's finger to the side.

For several seconds, the two foxes simply glared at each other, muzzles wrinkled with sneers. Then a casual, nasally voice snapped the silence.

"Hey, guys," Duke Weaselton said as he strolled onto the roof with his paws in his pockets. "I take it we're ready for some mayhem tonight, eh?"

Finnick huffed as he turned his eyes back to the tangled wires. "You're late."

"I had a job," Duke shrugged. "This sheep keeps payin' me to bring him some weird little flowers. Dunno what he got against pickin' his own if he likes his girl so much, but it's paper in the wallet, so who cares?"

"Didn't ask for your excuses," Finnick scowled, "just like I didn't ask for you to be late."

"Maybe you wanna stop bunchin' your panties there, eh, Painter?" Duke sneered. "Can't be a comfortable way to sit."

At that, Finnick growled, but he said nothing else.

"Thought you said we were ready," Duke said.

"The _presentation_ is ready," Finnick corrected him tersely before throwing down the wires. "The technical stuff is _your_ job, Bootleg. Get over here and do it already."

Grumbling, Duke plopped himself next to the projector and proceeded to nimbly pull wires under and around each other until he'd straightened them all out.

Nick returned to his previous spot at the edge of the roof, gripping the cement as he strained to see Killshot in the alley. He had moved deeper into the shadows.

For a moment, Nick let his gaze switch back to Judy. She was enthusiastically thanking a couple mammals who had just dropped some cans of food into one of the boxes behind her. As much as he preferred to continue watching her, he reminded himself that what she needed right now wasn't his attention, but his protection.

So, with a bristling tail, he kept his eyes on the alley.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:25 p.m._

* * *

"Good evening, Zootopia!" a familiar voice rang out.

Gasping with delight, Judy spun around until she spotted Gazelle standing on a small wooden platform to the side of the tables. Though the singer wasn't dressed in one of her sparkly stage outfits, she still looked sophisticated and stylish with a pair of rhinestone-studded jeans, a ruffled pink blouse, and a form-fitting black blazer cinched around her waist with a single button. Her tiger dancers stood in a semi-circle behind her, casually dressed in t-shirts and jeans or button-up shirts and slacks.

How had Judy not noticed that she was setting up a spot for herself there? She must have been too focused on distributing pamphlets. Hopping up and down while clapping her paws, she barely suppressed a squeal as Gazelle continued.

"Thank you all for coming here tonight," Gazelle said into a microphone as every mammal's head swiveled toward her, expressions rapt. "We're all very grateful to have you. The Predators for Harmony Association approached me with this thoughtful project to support needy predators throughout the city and spread the word about their current predicament." She swept the room with a sympathetic gaze. "I know we're all scared and not sure what's going to happen, but we can't blindly assign blame. We have to remember that we all came from the same place, and we all want to _stay_ in the same place. Predators are not so different from prey. We must support them as we try to understand what's happening to them so that we can find a solution."

"Pred lover!" shouted a snide voice from somewhere in the crowd.

But Gazelle didn't miss a beat, smiling genially in the general direction of the voice. "Thank you, sir. Yes, I _am_ a pred lover. I hope you'll join me." She pointed at the boxes. "Please leave your food donations here."

As if to demonstrate, Gazelle motioned to one of the tigers standing behind her. He passed her a crate full of food, and she carefully lowered it into one of the boxes.

A few of the prey mammals in the crowd shook their heads as they walked away, muttering about how disgusting they found the whole display, how tasteless it was for her to use her position and influence for politics, how they had never really liked her music anyway. As her sensitive hearing picked up such comments, Judy's ears dropped.

However, they perked up again when she noticed that there was also a decent number of prey mammals who quietly lingered. There were some predators, too, dressed nicely enough to imply that they were financially comfortable. With simple nods and smiles at the PHA members behind the tables, prey and predators alike left food for the boxes, chatted amiably and briefly with each other, and then started off in the directions of their homes.

It seemed to Judy that the only way her heart could have felt fuller would be if Nick had shown up to watch the events unfold at her side. She sighed. Not too long ago, he'd sent her a text promising that he would meet her there soon.

 _I wonder where he_ —

And then a small face with large triangular ears clad with a black mask and clamped with an electronic voice distortion box lit up the beige outer wall above the library's doors.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:25 p.m._

* * *

" _The prey would have you believe that predators are the problem,_ " Finnick's masked face said. " _That we are natural savages, biologically predisposed to murder, an entire genetic family o' psychopaths. How quickly an' conveniently they forget what they've done._ "

Vaguely, Nick was aware that his jaw had started to drop.

The image flashed away from Finnick to display an artist's rendition of Zootopia in its earliest stages, more than five hundred years ago. Mammals had already been sentient for maybe one thousand years or so before that, but hardly any community of predators and prey had dared trying an experiment quite like Zootopia. In the artist's rendition, they huddled together in like-family groups while passing each other on the streets.

" _Oppression o' predators didn't start with prey deemin' most of 'em eligible for only the lowest-payin' jobs, then throwin' 'em to the outskirts o' the city an' forgettin' about 'em,"_ the Finnick on the projector continued. " _It started with muzzles bein' required in public spaces._ "

On the wall appeared a succession of several paintings depicting wolves, bears, cougars, tigers, jaguars, hyenas, lions, caracals, cheetahs, leopards, weasels, otters, and foxes, all wearing peasant garb and muzzles in different areas of Zootopia, eyes somehow both empty and devastated. Nick was immediately bombarded by his own memories of a scout troop forcing a muzzle on him years ago, and a sense of nausea assaulted his stomach.

But the video kept going as the crowd below murmured.

" _Later, it was shock collars. Everywhere. Even in the privacy of their own homes._ "

Now the paintings gave way to photographs of predators in suspenders and suits looking stoic while sporting shock collars around their necks. Most of the photos were black-and-white, but the colored ones showed the collars' lightbulbs lit ominously green.

The image returned to Finnick's concealed face.

" _Even when the prey were so gracious as to outlaw any type of restraint against predators, they found other ways to legalize an' systematize their prejudice. Nearly 60% of predators live in poverty, an' the rest rarely rise above middle class. Only 30% of predators get a higher education and often still struggle to find high-payin' jobs afterwards. They get longer prison sentences for the same offenses that prey commit, even when they have similar rap sheets. Many predators resort to illegal activity to get by, but prey only use this fact to demonize them further._

" _And as if this ain't bad enough, have a look at prey killers who got off easy because they were prey, and remember 'em next time you're scared that a predator will go savage. Remember who the real enemies are._ "

Finnick's masked face was replaced with a mugshot of a glaring pig with a black eye.

" _Paul Whitesnout. Corporate sales director who felt like he never got the pay he deserved, so he supplemented it by startin' an underground meat-selling ring on the black market. He kidnapped an' murdered the homeless, prostitutes, and anyone else he thought wouldn't be missed. He killed predators, but most of his targets were actually his fellow prey. Although most of his customers were predators, the private investigator who busted him was a predator himself—a wolf who was later stabbed to death in what's assumed to be revenge, but the police never spared enough resources to track down his killer. Paul was only in prison for five years before bein' released for 'good behavior.' His current whereabouts are unknown."_

Now the projector displayed the mugshot of a scraggly brown rabbit with a lazy but mad smirk and a hole in one ear.

" _Billy Rhinelander. An otherwise typical farmin' rabbit who developed an immunity to several poisons, then coated his teeth with them and injected them into his victims with a tiny bite. Took police and coroners years to even notice the bites through the fur, an' another year to think outside their biases an' realize they were rabbit bites an' not a pair o' lethal injections. Billy spent only a decade in prison for murderin' more than thirty mammals o' both the prey and predator families over the course of a few years. By comparison, an otter who killed a different rabbit that tried to rape her around the same time as Billy's conviction spent twenty years in jail. Although Billy is now required to wear an ankle bracelet with a GPS tracker, he was allowed to go back to farmin'."_

Nick glanced down at the crowd. His keen eyes could see Judy trembling.

But the video played on, now bringing up a mugshot of a scarred pale gray rhinoceros.

" _Rocky Hornton. Former politician. Kidnapped other prey mammals of various species that were close enough to his own size, shackling them in his basement so that he could_ —"

At that point, Nick had heard enough. As the mammals gathered before the library were covering their mouths in shock, some of them leaving with sickened or furious expressions, he whirled to face Finnick and Duke.

"This isn't what we agreed!" he snarled at them. "We were just going to draw attention to the predators who would be getting the food. Showing pictures and biographies. Showing Zootopia what they go through because neither the media nor some little food drive will really get the point across." He gestured at the images being displayed by the projector. "What the _hell_ is this?"

Both Finnick and Duke regarded him in stony silences, their gazes unflinching.

After waiting for what he felt was more than enough time, Nick clenched his fists and growled, "Why?"

"You never kicked out that bunny, did you?" Finnick asked.

"What does that have to do with—"

"Cavortin' with the vigilante bunny!" Finnick interjected, his voice abruptly rising. "Lettin' her get away! Keepin' another bunny as a roommate! Insistin' that we don't kill anybody, even if it's for the greater good!"

"Greater good?!" Nick shouted. "You mean _our_ good! Murdering mammals for _our_ good!"

"The good of mammals like us, Hustler!" Finnick yelled. "The good of predators who ain't given a chance at a decent life if they don't _take_ it for themselves! You don't think their rights are part o' the greater good?!"

"Of course they are, but this isn't the way to change things!" Nick exclaimed. "Trying to turn one type of mammal into the bad guys isn't going to fix anything! The fact that prey do it to us is the reason we joined the Den of Thieves in the first place! Doing it to them will just make everything worse!"

"Oh, poor prey!" Finnick scoffed. "They might actually get a taste o' their own medicine now!"

Nick glared. "The whole city is already _extremely_ tense. You'll incite predators to start retaliating and attacking prey and—"

"You didn't seem so worried about _predators_ getting attacked by _prey_ when you an' the vigilante decided to expose mysteriously savage predators to the whole city!" Finnick shot back.

"I knew that might happen, but I—"

"You wanna know why we didn't tell you about the change in plans? It's 'cause you've gone soft, Hustler." Finnick sneered in disgust. "You've sided with the oppressors, just 'cause o' some dumb bunny."

"That's not…"

Nick's words faded as he resorted to hanging his head. Some small, childlike part of him was terrified of what he was about to say, knowing that he would be giving up what had once been his most important goal in life. But the rest of him knew it was inevitable.

He sighed heavily before meeting his old friend's gaze again—and releasing himself from his pack.

"I can't be part of this," he said quietly.

"I know," Finnick said simply, his determined glower never faltering.

Duke nonchalantly picked at one of his claws. He didn't even bother looking at Nick anymore.

The fox shook his head at them. "They're not going to listen now," he said. "You know that, right? The prey will _never_ listen to us now."

"They never listened in the first place," Finnick shrugged. "And they were never going to." He drew a small radio from his back pocket. "But maybe they'll listen to this." Pushing a button on the radio, he directed his words to the receiver. "Have a good evenin', Killshot."

Eyes widening, Nick spun and frantically surveyed the crowd. Sure enough, Killshot had emerged from his hiding place, brandishing a large, illegal lethal.

Before he could even think, he was bolting toward the door that would lead him down from the roof.

As he sprinted, Finnick yelled, "Nick, he won't—"

But the rest of his sentence was slammed into silence behind the door.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 8:48 p.m._

* * *

At the sight of a black-clad hyena that Judy recognized as Killshot pointing a large gun at the crowd, mammals started screaming and trying to hurry away. For a moment, Judy froze, everything else forgotten as she stared at it, every instinct pushing her to run and hide. Then she shook her head and blinked, checking that her bag was still where she'd left it under the tables.

As she was about to lunge for it, she heard a click that choked her chest with terror. She glanced up. Killshot was aiming in her direction.

But a caracal that she hadn't immediately noticed next to her frantically threw his paws in the air, "accidentally" pushing her closer toward the hyena in the process.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Judy allowed herself a moment to glare fiercely at him—and realized she recognized him. It was the same caracal who had harassed her at Basic Instinct, implying that she was "only good for one thing." What _were_ the odds? And how _dare_ he?!

She balled her fists.

Suddenly, the Hustler was there.

She couldn't see his face, of course, but his body language screamed fury, with his chest heaving and tail bristled. Without hesitation, he punched the caracal squarely in the jaw. The caracal collapsed to the ground and didn't move, leaving the fox flexing his fists over him as though itching for an excuse to hit him more.

Telling herself that she would process this interaction later, Judy scrambled toward the tables as she heard the Hustler address Killshot. He was saying something about how the hyena needed to stop and leave, but Judy wasn't paying much attention. She grabbed her bag and darted into the alley next to the library, hurriedly changing into her Crossfire outfit with shaking paws.

In case anyone had seen her enter the alley and would make a connection between her private and public identities, Judy took the time to run around the back of the library to emerge from the alley on the other side. As soon as she did, she sprinted toward Killshot, who was now aiming at the Hustler.

She jumped and let her foot connect with the side of Killshot's head.

It didn't knock the hyena unconscious, but it _did_ buy them some time. As though they had planned it, the Hustler snatched up the gun and ran next to her in the opposite direction of the library. The mammals around them screamed even louder when they saw the fox now had the gun, but both he and Judy ignored them.

Once they were a good distance way from Killshot, who was just rising to his knees while rubbing his head, Judy turned toward the Hustler and motioned furiously toward the video that had been created by the Den of Thieves, still droning on about horrific prey serial killers and other prey criminals, although no one was paying attention now.

"What _is_ that?!" she snapped at him in her farmer's drawl.

"I didn't have anything to do with that," the Hustler quickly assured her.

" _Really_?!" Judy exclaimed. "Because I'm pretty sure that's the fennec from your team!"

"He didn't consult me!" the Hustler fired back.

"But you let it happen, didn't you?" Judy demanded.

The Hustler crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

"It's still going, isn't it?" Judy gestured at the video again. "Are you telling me you couldn't stop it?"

To both her satisfaction and dismay, the Hustler hesitated. But only for a moment. "Well, let's go stop it now."

He pivoted and started walking into the building right across from the library, a former department store that had recently gone out of business. The building was up for sale, but no one had bought it yet. Judy followed him inside and up a few staircases before reaching the roof.

It was empty except for a projector plugged into a laptop. The Hustler sauntered toward it and yanked the power cord from the projector, cutting off the video just as the fennec was launching into his conclusion about prey being the true enemy.

Now the only sounds were the distant screams of the mammals that had cleared the area. At this point, there were only a few stragglers left, but they were hastening away as well. The fox and bunny heard Killshot raise his voice, though they were far enough from the edge of the roof to be out of his sight.

"Hustler?" he called out. "Crossfire? Here, bunny, bunny, bunny…"

Crossfire shook her head, fists balanced on her hips and foot thumping. "You realize this is going to worsen the chaos throughout the city, right?" She looked up to see the Hustler rubbing his temples, eyes squeezed shut behind his orange ski goggles. " _Why_ didn't you stop that video sooner?"

The fox sighed heavily, letting his paws fall to his sides as his shoulders slumped. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Being sorry doesn't cut it!" Judy snapped more harshly than she intended, but she suddenly felt simultaneously exhausted and energized by stress. "Do you not care at all about the lives of prey?!"

The Hustler immediately fixed a fierce glare on her. "How _dare_ you ask me that! You dismissed _my_ concerns about predators suffering for exposing the ones who'd gone savage like it was _nothing_!"

"I did _not_!" Judy replied indignantly. "I just said that we needed to support the cause of justice, and we could take care of the fallout for the predators! And I've _kept_ my promise! I've been stopping hate crimes, breaking up fights—but you know what? That situation isn't even _like_ this one!"

"Oh, it isn't?"

"No!"

"That video—" The Hustler pointed at the wall of the library, now blank. "I _didn't_ have anything to do with it, but let's be honest—it makes a good point that predators have more reason to fear prey than the other way around!"

"A few _choices_ made by corrupt prey can't demonize the entire family!" Judy exclaimed. "Predators are going savage _randomly_ , and that is _not_ the fault of prey!"

"Is it _predators'_ fault that prey haven't learned to regard them as equals after more than two thousand years of sentience?!" the Hustler shouted as he stepped toward her, paws rising.

The sight of his claws suddenly so close to her abruptly opened a gate for Judy's childhood memories to flood into her mind. An angry fox, a scared bunny trying to do the right thing, a swipe, a stinging sensation, blood—

Gasping, she jumped back, grabbing a pocketknife that she had always kept in her utility belt but hadn't yet found a reason to use.

It took a few seconds for her breathing to even out again. Only then did she register the hurt look in the Hustler's eyes. Based on the position in which he was now frozen, it was clear that he was just going to put his paws on her shoulders—and she had thought he was going to attack her.

Her heart plummeted. It plummeted repeatedly as she tried to find a way to explain her actions, but no response that came to her mind seemed good enough.

The Hustler's distorted voice was quiet. "Even now, you…"

Without finishing, he turned and walked toward the door leading away from the roof. But it opened before he got there.

Killshot's silhouette filled the entryway.

"Boy, you two are _loud_ ," he chuckled. "But I can shut at least _one_ of you up."

Then he aimed a small pistol at Judy.

The Hustler lunged at him, but Judy knew he wouldn't be able to tackle the hyena in time. She ducked and rolled away. A shot rang out, and hot, sharp pain jolted across her left arm when a bullet skinned it. Crying out, she held onto it, stumbling toward the edge of the roof. Another wave of terror coursed through her when her ears picked up the sounds of distant police sirens, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to think straight. She noticed a tree below. It seemed close enough. But was it?

Another bullet grazed the edge of the roof.

So she leaped.

She couldn't help screaming as her arm protested her grabbing the tree trunk when she managed to land on a thick branch. It trembled beneath her, but she remained steady. With a few more quick and nimble jumps, she felt her feet hit the ground. Wonderful, wonderful ground.

Still gripping her arm close to her body, she half-sprinted and half-stumbled on her shaky legs. She didn't stop until she reached the apartment and pulled the door shut behind her.

The apartment was dark. Nick wasn't home.

She hadn't seen him at the food drive, either. Maybe he'd managed to miss the commotion. Thank heavens.

Judy slumped against the door and sank to the floor. She only let herself cry for a few minutes before wiping her tears away with a determined sigh. Life didn't wait for trauma to be processed.

She would need to make sure she was ready for whenever she _did_ see Nick next.

* * *

 _Day 10: Wednesday, June 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:54 p.m._

* * *

Trudging through the lobby of the apartment building, Nick checked his phone for the news. Several outlets had already reported on the mysterious hyena who had threatened the crowd of mammals at the food drive held by the Predators for Harmony Association. After finding the hyena unconscious and tied to a pole on the roof of the former department store across the street from the library, the police pawcuffed him and brought him to the holding cells in Precinct One. Several articles promised that Zootopia's finest would find out more about the purpose and motivation behind his actions. Others speculated that the hyena might have gone savage, which made Nick snort with disgust.

 _All_ of the articles made sure to mention that no one was hurt.

Nick sighed heavily as he reached the floor for his apartment. _Well, except for one little bunny_.

He'd watched Crossfire leap from the roof with an injured left arm. Since he didn't see a flattened bunny lying in pool of guts when he left the scene and changed into his normal clothes, he assumed that she'd somehow got away safely.

That was a relief, but…

He rubbed his closed eyelids, grimacing as he held back tears. He'd lost his pack and someone he'd come to regard as a friend all in one day.

Fortunately, the day wasn't quite over.

Slowly, quietly, Nick opened his apartment door. The moment he passed through, his body was engulfed in a deluge of comforting sensations. The smell of hot food on the stove. Sizzling sounds accompanying it. Warm air. The sweet and earthy scent of a bunny. A certain bunny.

 _His_ bunny.

He drifted across the living room like the embodiment of a long, relaxed sigh and rounded the corner leading to the kitchen.

 _There she is_.

She had her back turned to him, adding a pinch of something to whatever was in the pan and then stirring it around, dressed cozily in a loose pine-colored cashmere sweater and dark blue jeans. The fact that she apparently still had the strength of mind to cook after such a terrifying ordeal at the food drive was amazing to him.

As usual, she was pouring all of her focus into her task and hadn't noticed his arrival. Leaning against the wall, he took advantage of her singlemindedness to let himself simply stare at her for a while, submerged in sheer, ardent joy merely by watching her do something so mundane. It was a warm jubilance that washed him entirely clean from the dark sadness and rage that had clouded his mind throughout his walk back home. He named the feeling after her and repeated it over and over in his mind.

 _Judy, Judy, Judy_ …

How could he ever live alone again when he knew that he could have this?

At last, he stepped forward slowly, quietly, until he was directly behind the bunny's small frame. He didn't pay attention to what she was cooking. It didn't matter. All he wanted to do was slip his arms around her waist and bury his muzzle as deeply as possible in her fur. So that's what he did.

She flinched in surprise, but only a little, and only for a second. Then she relaxed against him, and his heart soared as his breaths deepened.

"Hey," he murmured. "I heard someone brought a gun to that food drive. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Are you okay?"

"Hey, there," Judy replied in a soft voice that rang sweetly in his ears. She lifted her nose to nuzzle his neck. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm really glad you weren't there, and I'm relieved to see you."

"Likewise," Nick replied, only dimly aware of how his voice rumbled as he gently returned her gesture.

"Food's almost ready," she continued with her lips brushing the underside of his chin.

Some kind of vague grunting noise was Nick's only answer. He was far more interested in exploring her body with his nose, relishing the way that she felt and smelled. He took his time naming each precious component of her scent. Lavender. Raspberries. The earth after rain. Something metallic—

He froze. Held a breath.

"Are you bleeding?" he queried.

"Hmm?" said Judy absently. The way that she was gently rubbing her head against his chest was distracting, but he forced himself to focus.

"Bleeding," he repeated the word as his lungs started working again, although they felt tightened. Finally, he managed to raise his head and back up a little to study her, his eyes roving her figure as his paws remained on her hips. "Are you bleeding?"

"U-Um," she began haltingly, a bit dazed from the abrupt end to their snuggling. "A little bit. It's just my arm."

 _Her arm?_

And just like that, a puzzle crashed into place in Nick's mind like an avalanche of snow. All the warmth in his body fled.

He stared at her for a moment. "I thought you said you were fine."

"Well, this is unrelated to the food drive," Judy shrugged. "I _am_ fine."

But Nick saw the way the corner of her mouth twitched, the way it did whenever she was nervous. "May I see?" he asked quietly.

Judy smiled at him. "You don't need to worry. Just a scratch, that's all."

"Still…" Nick trailed off as he moved his paws from her hips to her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. His gaze was already trained on her left arm, but he let her tell him anyway. "Which one is it?"

Sure enough, she lifted her left arm, and his entire stomach lurched.

She pulled her sleeve back to reveal gauze wrapped tightly around her forearm.

"It looks worse than it is, I promise," Judy assured him, but he barely heard. Only when she laid a paw on his shoulder did he look up at her tented brows and worried eyes—rimmed with red, like she had been crying not too long ago. "Nick, are you upset? I promise I'm fine."

 _It couldn't be_.

"How did you get that?" he asked flatly.

She glanced away.

 _Don't do that_ , he begged in his mind. _It makes you look guilty_.

Then she met his eyes with a shrug and a small smile.

 _A fake one_. _No_. _No, no, please, no._

"I wasn't watching where I was going, so I ran into a tree and scraped my arm up," she said, punctuating her story with a self-deprecating laugh. "Silly, right?"

 _That's a lie,_ Nick's mind whispered. _Forced tone. Too much blood. There's only one explanation. She's… She's really…_

"Cro—" he began, but then clamped his mouth shut.

It felt like an hour passed as they both stared at each other—Judy with a concerned and questioning expression and Nick just trying to quell the second rise of nausea he'd experienced that night. A kaleidoscope of memories filled his thoughts and pilfered his breath.

Suddenly, as he looked into those lovely violet eyes that he adored so much, it was easy to imagine them behind a colored mask.

Finally, he cracked a convincing smirk at her.

"Crazy," he corrected himself. Then he turned away and lumbered toward his bedroom, willing himself to ignore her widened eyes— _those beautiful, beautiful eyes_ —as he went on in as casual a tone as he could muster. "Glad you're okay. Anyway, I'm actually not that hungry tonight, so I'm just going to bed, all right?" Before she could respond, he tossed her a single lazy wave over his shoulder. "Good night, Carrots."

He shut his door behind him without daring to look at her. Then he slowly leaned his back against it and let himself slide silently to the floor.

For a long time, all he could do was stare blankly at the middle space before him.

* * *

 **A/N: And they all lived unhappily ever after. THE END.**

…

 ***Chief Bogo voice*** _ **Just kidding**_ **!**

 **We're not at the end yet, my friends. Don't fret. :)**

 **I'll be with my family in a cabin in the middle of the woods this weekend. I'm hoping that being away from civilization for a while will give me the time and inspiration that I need to get a** _ **lot**_ **of writing done. We shall see.**

 **I** _ **know**_ **I haven't caught up on comments yet, and that probably won't happen this weekend because I won't have Wi-Fi, but I** _ **will**_ **do it as soon as I can!**

 **See you next week!**


	13. The World Spins Madly On

**Chapter 13—The World Spins Madly On**

 **A/N: Another deadline** _ **slayed**_ **! :D** **I** _ **love**_ **this feeling! Success is addictive!**

 **And if you're wondering, my little family vacation was wonderful and just what we needed. To slightly alter a quote by the great Eugene Fitzherbert, "Wow. I could get used to a view like this. Hold on. Yep, I'm used to it. Guys, I want a cabin."**

 **Seriously, I do.**

 **So those of you reading this story on eff eff dot net won't see the song lyrics, but I post some with every chapter on AO3. The lyrics are supposed to capture the mood or significance of an entire chapter, or at least a specific part in it.**

 **The lyrics that go with this chapter are an excerpt from "World Spins Madly On," written and performed by The Weepies. It's an absolutely** _ **breathtaking**_ **song that I adore, but its beauty is further enhanced with the music video "Thought of You," put together by Ryan Woodward. I must insist that you Google the video and drink in its splendor before reading this chapter. Art like that needs to be appreciated.**

 **Once again, infinite thanks to my dear friends, Libious and Camoss, who reviewed the chapter right away and made some crucial suggestions. They always keep my fragile ego intact when I start questioning myself. You're both so fantastic. :)**

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 5:12 a.m._

* * *

In the semi-darkness of early sunrise, the concealed face and ears of a fennec fox lit a laptop screen. Before it sat Dawn Bellwether, wrapped in a plush pink bathrobe, leaning against a wall of ruffled floral pillows, glaring. Within the split in her hoof, she held the stem of a wine glass filled with fresh mimosa. She was starting early today.

The fennec's words stung her ears. Although the quality of the cell phone footage from the cute little pro-pred food drive was nothing to admire, his message was clear enough.

 _Prey_ were the true enemies, he said.

With his sharp teeth, his claws, and his DNA slaked and tainted in thousands of years' worth of ancestral bloodlust, the little fennec said that _prey_ were the true enemies.

He'd implied that muzzles and shock collars were _unreasonable_ and _oppressive_. With his body evolved to be a weapon against smaller herbivores, he'd acted like prey looking out for their own safety was such an egregious and unforgivable offense.

He'd suggested that predators shouldn't be living in poverty and stuck in mostly to low-paying positions. As if any creature _literally_ created to kill should be allowed in the higher circles of society.

He'd cited examples of murderous prey. Prey who would obviously _never_ be driven to such atrocities if it weren't for the influence of predators being normalized in mammal communities around the world.

For a while after the video ended and the laptop went to sleep, Dawn glowered at it. Then she grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand and dialed a number.

A familiar voice that managed to be both surly and monotone at once soon answered. " _What?_ "

"Morning, Doug," Dawn greeted. "What do you know about the Predators for Harmony Association?"

After blowing a long, obnoxious sigh right into the receiver, Doug answered as straightforwardly as always. "I know they're some pro-pred rights group that keeps trying to find new ways to advocate for… you know… pred rights."

"I assume they have meetings?"

"Well, they're an advocacy group, so…"

"When do they meet?"

"Uh, I think I saw a flyer saying they meet on Tuesdays or something. Pretty sure it was Tuesdays."

Dawn nodded. "Then you have four days to make enough Night Howler serum to dart… How many predators are in the group?"

There was a pause. "You want me to dart, like, two or three dozen predators at a meeting?"

"Sorry, are your skills not _quite_ legendary enough for such a simple task?" Dawn asked sweetly.

She could almost hear the ram pout before he replied. "It's just that it sounds dumb. It's too obvious. Targeting a pred rights group right after a disastrous food drive where a pred trash-talked prey? Turning twenty or thirty preds savage at the same time? The police will start suspecting that these attacks aren't—"

"I suppose I must have missed the part in our contract where I was paying you to give me advice," Dawn interrupted icily.

"The only reason I signed that stupid contract was because I want to see preds eliminated from society as much as you do," Doug fired back, now sounding a little more awake. "And you're about to ruin our chances."

Sipping her mimosa, Dawn shook her head. "Just make the serum. I'll figure out the rest. You're the scientist, I'm the politician."

Another sigh. "Fine, but it will have to wait. It's stupidly early. I'm going back to sleep for now."

"What if I get you coffee?"

Dawn smirked when the ram paused again.

"It better have the extra foam this time," he said.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:52 a.m._

* * *

"Job abandonment, huh?" Yannis scoffed. "And after barely more than a week of work. Typical fox."

"It's not like that," Judy insisted, biting her lower lip with her buck tooth. Absentmindedly, she shuffled out of Andy's way as he hurried into the kitchen and toward the boiling soup pot. "I think something happened to him."

"Yeah, his _biology_ happened to him," Yannis sneered. "You see now why I didn't want to give him a chance in the first place, bunny?" Shaking his head, the old goat turned back to the grill, which he'd taken over in Nick's unexpected absence. "I hope you've learned your lesson about trusting foxes."

Normally, Judy would have some snappy, crushing reply to that. This morning, however, she couldn't seem to find enough energy, as what little she had was all being poured into trying to function normally.

Truthfully, she wasn't sure what she had learned. All she knew was that the first thing she felt when she woke up that morning was debilitating regret over the things that she'd said to the Hustler, along with a new wave of fear and exhaustion when she looked at the gauze on her arm and remembered how it got there.

Then she'd been devastated to realize that Nick had left. She'd crept into his room to wake him up for work and been greeted with the sight of a stripped bed. He was simply gone, along with his duffel bag and half his clothes.

He hadn't left any notes. No texts or voicemails. He hadn't replied to any of _her_ numerous texts or voicemails. No one from Basic Instinct had heard from him.

Frankly, at this point, she was tempted to walk off the job herself to go looking for him. But she wouldn't even know where to start, and it probably wouldn't help.

For Judy, the next hour was a blur of anxiety and distractedness. Twice, she brought someone the wrong dish by accident. _More_ than twice, she sneaked into the office to check her cell phone, only to sink further into disappointment and worry when she saw no new messages.

Then she noticed a familiar face walk into the restaurant. Unfortunately, it wasn't the face of a fox, but rather an otter.

"Olivia?" she inquired, pausing in front of the customer on her way to bringing clean silverware to a newly empty table.

The otter blinked and stared at Judy for a moment before she smiled warmly with recognition, though her eyes still looked as exhausted as the first time they'd met. "Judy!"

She stepped forward to wrap the bunny in a hug. After what the last twelve hours had been like for Judy, she almost cried as she relaxed into it.

"How are you?" Olivia asked as she pulled away.

"Um, well," Judy hesitated as she guided the otter to the table that she had just cleaned, setting the silverware in front of her. "I've been better, to be honest."

"What happened?" Olivia queried as she settled herself into the seat.

Judy sighed. "I… I think my roommate moved out this morning without telling me why, and he won't answer my calls or texts," she said, shoulders sagging as she kept her gaze fixed on a little scratch in the table so that it wouldn't be obvious that she was trying to contain the moisture that was gathering in her eyes. "He's my best friend. I have no idea what's going on, and I'm so worried—"

She was cut off by her own unexpected sob. Tears suddenly streamed down her cheeks. It suddenly seemed like too much effort to stand, her knees starting to buckle despite how hard she tried to stay upright.

Immediately, Olivia was on her feet again, holding the bunny in her arms. Customers and staff alike were staring, but Judy just focused on clutching the otter's clothes while her body gasped and cried uncontrollably.

After a few minutes like this, one of the other waitresses gently patted Judy on the shoulder and told her that Yannis said she could have a fifteen-minute break. Nodding gratefully, Judy let Olivia lead her into the booth seat with her.

"I don't suppose you're talking about that fox who used to cook here?" Olivia inquired. "You two seemed close."

Judy gave her a single miserable nod.

"Do you know of any places where he especially likes to hang out?" the otter softly prodded. "Maybe you can check there after work."

Shrugging and wiping tear residue from her face, Judy answered, "I'm not sure. He showed me a few nice places in the city, but he didn't mention whether he frequently hangs out at any of them."

"Well," Olivia paused and sighed, "maybe he just needs space for a little while. He might come back."

"I don't know," Judy's voice cracked as she fought to keep from dissolving into sobs again. She leaned her head on the otter's shoulder. "I don't think I know _anything_ anymore."

Olivia rested her cheek on the top of Judy's head. "Well, I think I know at least _one_ thing. Miracles _can_ happen." She brought an arm around Judy's shoulder and squeezed it. "Did you know that my Emmet is one of the mammals who went savage and got locked up in that old hospital?"

Despite the circumstances, Judy smirked faintly. "You don't say?"

"Mmhmm," Olivia hummed. "And even though we're not sure why he's savage or whether there's a cure for him—which is my new worry—at least he was found alive. He'd been missing for so long, but he was found _alive_. Do you know the odds of that?" She lifted her head to angle a smile down at Judy. "So I'm hopeful." With another tight hug, she continued. "Maybe you'll get a miracle, too."

Judy smiled back. "I hope so. I _really_ do." She grimaced as she held back the urge to cry again. "He's so important to me, Olivia."

"Then take some advice from someone who's been there," Olivia said softly. "Don't give up hope."

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:32 a.m._

* * *

One of Nick's ex-girlfriends from his early twenties ended their relationship by emptying his bank account and running away with someone else.

A couple years later, another one figured out that she was more interested in companionship than Nick himself, so she left him to "find herself." He hadn't seen her since.

Yet another one—an especially pretty ocelot and the only one who wasn't a vixen—broke up with him when she revealed that she had only been curious to know what it was like to date a fox, and the novelty had worn off.

Nick had been angry at each of these breakups. He'd felt betrayed and used. He'd wrestled with sadness and loneliness.

Somehow, though, the pain that he'd endured then couldn't hold a candle to what he was experiencing now.

It was like a deep cavity had been dug into his chest, leaving gaping emptiness.

He'd known those other mammals longer than he'd known her. He'd invested more time and planning into them. He'd been more intimate with them.

So why did this heartbreak hurt _so much more_ than the others?

He had no answer to that question. Part of him whispered that he was overreacting, that he should just talk to her about this.

But the thought of trying that was unbearable. To have trusted and believed in her, to have admired her, and yet to be unsure which side of her was real—the one that trusted and believed in him, or the part that seemed just like everyone else who had always looked down on him…

He found himself ignoring every phone call that Judy made to him and every text that she sent him—because every time he saw her name or face appear, the cavity in his chest seemed to grow just a little wider.

Fortunately, he had a good reason to stop paying attention to his phone for a while.

He stood before the back doors of Finnick's van and knocked. It only took a couple seconds for the fennec to slam the door open, baseball bat in paw, yelling threateningly, " _Who is it_?!"

Nick didn't flinch. He met Finnick's eyes levelly. They took their time exchanging glowers.

"Not sure we have anythin' to say to each other," Finnick finally said.

"Maybe not," Nick replied. "But I _do_ have some things to ask you."

Wordlessly, Finnick crossed his arms and leaned on one side of the doorway, glaring expectantly.

"Why exactly did you invite Killshot to the food drive?" Nick asked, balling his fists in his pockets.

"Just to scare the prey," Finnick said. "Nothin' more. I told you he wouldn't hurt anyone."

Nick eyes narrowed further. "He hurt Crossfire."

Finnick's brow quirked, but he said nothing.

"He actually tried to kill her, but she got away," Nick pressed.

"And?" Finnick said tersely.

Glancing away, Nick gave himself a moment to inhale deeply and compose himself before looking back up at the fennec. "Were you setting her up to be killed?"

"No," Finnick answered. "How was I supposed to even know she'd be there?" He shrugged. "But I can't say I'd be too sorry if he'd succeeded."

Nick shook his head at him slowly, mouth partially hanging open. "How can you say that?" Then he half-chuckled at himself. "What am I saying? I shouldn't be surprised at this point."

"You know Big's still got it out for her, right?" Finnick said. "You heard 'im. He only let her escape that one time 'cause o' what she did for Fru Fru. Thieves are still supposed to kill her on sight."

"And me?" Nick queried, squarely meeting his old friend's eyes.

Again, Finnick shrugged. "Don't think anyone but you, me, an' Duke knows you want out right now. Not sure how Big will react to that." His expression turned grimmer, which Nick hadn't known was possible. "But I wouldn't kill you, Nick. Not even if Big asked."

Nick looked away. "No," he murmured, but not bitterly. "You'll just betray me instead."

"I'm still loyal to our cause," Finnick replied. "But that doesn't mean I want _you_ hurt."

Sighing, Nick casually drew a large wad of cash from his back pocket. "Touching," he said. Under his breath, he began counting out the bills.

As expected, Finnick frowned suspiciously. "What's all that?"

Nick didn't answer right away. Instead, he stuffed the cash back in his pocket. "Well, you got at least one thing you wanted from me," he said. "I'm looking for a new place now. Just got the money for the safety deposit this morning."

The fennec's ears perked at that as he narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Really. Wanna tell me where you got it?"

"From a very nice bobcat who was in desperate need of some tires a couple hours ago, while you were sleeping like the dead," Nick replied. Then he pointedly raised his eyebrows as he crouched to examine the underside of the van. "But speaking of tires, Finnick—golly, where are _yours_?"

Eyes widening, Finnick blinked, only then noticing that he wasn't as high off the ground as usual. He leapt from the van and let his jaw drop when he saw empty space where he would normally see tires.

By the time he whirled around, ready to scream with his fists clenched, the Hustler had already disappeared.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:49 a.m._

* * *

"If you really understood how much trouble you're in," Chief Bogo said to the criminal sitting in front of him at Precinct One interrogation table, "I think you would've talked by now."

Martin "Killshot" Spotsberg glowered at him. Since waking up in a holding cell that morning, the hyena hadn't spoken a single word.

"Five years of activity with the Den of Thieves, labeled a domestic terrorist group," Bogo continued, slipping a tiny pair of glasses over his nose as he read from stapled sheets of paper with casually raised brows. "Seems you were climbing the ranks. Naturally, that means you have an extensive of record of armed robbery, property damage, forgery, assault, and battery—plus, you're a suspect in last year's murder of Officer Miles Vincent." He fixed Martin with a cold stare. "And now you're caught on video threatening citizens of Zootopia with an illegal lethal weapon." Tossing the sheets on the table, he folded his hooves under his chin. "Possessing an illegal gun alone can put you away for five years. Threatening other mammals with it could be an additional two. With everything else to consider, you may not come out of jail until you're too old to do anything but sit in a chair and have someone change your catheter whenever they feel like it. That's assuming you're ever let out at all." He let a few beats of silence emphasize the point. "So?"

"So I'm wondering if I'm the first mammal who isn't too scared to tell you how ugly you are," Martin sneered.

Bogo raised one sardonic brow. "You choose to break your silence with an insult that didn't even take any real imagination? How disappointing."

Frowning, Martin leaned forward slowly, keeping steady, square eye contact with Bogo. "Ever seen what a bull carcass looks like when it's skinned and hanging from a hook?" he growled. " 'Cause you're even uglier than that, and you're worth even less." He paused to wrinkle his nose in thorough disgust. "Now get me a lawyer."

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:31 p.m._

* * *

Taking a lazy bite out of his fish sandwich, Nick settled in his lawn chair and stared idly at the stone bridge under which he always stayed when he was between apartments. He chewed slowly, letting his mind wander toward thoughts of other bridges, other heights, standing in front of the call of the void…

But he was snapped back to the present reality when he picked up the sounds of heated words being exchanged by two mammals headed in his general direction. They were coming from behind him.

He groaned, slipping a pair of sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and sliding them onto his muzzle.

Unfortunately, he couldn't quite tune out the conversation.

"Back off!" one male voice was saying. "I wasn't even _looking_ at you!"

"You were, too!" replied another male voice. "What, you're thinking I might go _savage_ on you?"

At that, Nick adjusted his sunglasses to peek over the rims as he looked over his shoulder at the two mammals. One was a beaver in a button-up shirt and business slacks, while the other, a cheetah, wore a mock sports jersey and jeans. The cheetah raised his claws in a sarcastically threatening gesture. In response, the beaver took a nervous step back, though his jaw and fists were clenched.

"Just leave me alone," the beaver said. "Go back to the jungle or wherever you came from. Just leave me alone."

"Or what?" the cheetah retorted. "Or you'll bury me in some shallow grave near the dam where _you_ came from?" He sneered. "That would be _just_ like you prey."

The beaver's tail lashed agitatedly as he puffed his chest, moved closer, and glared fiercely up at the cheetah. "A few rotten prey mammals don't mean we're anywhere _near_ as bad as someone with a genetic _history_ of murder."

Glaring back, the cheetah's lip curled. "Get out of my face, prey."

"Get out of _mine_ , predator," the beaver growled back.

And suddenly, they were shoving each other, yelling obscenities that would have gotten Nick grounded by his mother for a week when he was a child. For a moment, all he did was watch. Then, heaving a sigh, he stood and sauntered toward the fighting mammals.

"Excuse me," he said.

When both mammals ignored him, he cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Excuse me. Hello?"

Then the cheetah threw a punch at the beaver, who tumbled to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose. At that, Nick barked, " _HEY!_ "

But when it seemed that the cheetah was about to make the best of his advantage by pouncing on the beaver, Nick rushed forward and yanked on his tail just enough to make him shriek and stumble.

He spun around and spluttered in surprise for a moment before bearing his fangs at Nick. "What—"

"Just thought you should know that my friend here," Nick took a moment to gesture at the stunned beaver, "recently got diagnosed with a pretty nasty case of malaria. It's a rare strain, transferrable by mere contact with blood."

Eyes widening, the cheetah glanced at the beaver's blood on his knuckles, then back at the beaver and fox.

"Might want to get it checked out," Nick added, nodding at a clinic barely visible in the distance.

The cheetah looked expectantly at the beaver, who blinked.

"Y… Yeah," the beaver stuttered. "It's true." He swept his eyes over Nick. "Thanks, buddy."

Once again studying the blood on his paw, the cheetah growled before whirling around and hurrying toward the clinic Nick had indicated earlier.

Meanwhile, Nick silently offered a paw to the beaver, who stood up without taking it.

Only then did Nick realize with bone-chilling shock that he recognized the beaver. Suddenly, he was eight years old again, staring into the cold eyes of a scout who would sooner muzzle than trust him, no matter what he did.

Nick's mind wrestled with contradictory instincts to yell, cry, cower, lift his claws, and go looking for a muzzle to see how a _prey_ would like it. He kept himself still, waiting for the beaver to say something, to pin him down, maybe collar him this time...

But his old childhood bully simply regarded him with hesitant, narrow eyes, and Nick had to suppress the abrupt urge to laugh bitterly. Nothing had really changed.

 _Except_ …

Unbidden, a fresher memory replaced the images of the scout troop in his mind. Violet eyes, framed by soft gray fur, the gentle shadow of a blanket above them, the smell of cake crumbs on the floor, a small paw on his, a warm smile just for him. Words.

" _You're so much more than what they decided you are._ "

It was a thought that she had implanted in his mind. Without his noticing, it had grown. Now, as he stood in front of someone who had instigated a turning point in his life for the worse, near a bridge where he sat after escaping the pack that he'd finally accepted was never meant to be his home—it was clear to him that she had been right after all.

Although he managed to keep his face schooled in a neutral expression, Nick blinked at the beaver. As it seemed that there was nothing more for them to say to each other, he pivoted and walked back to his chair. He sat and stared blankly at the sky.

 _Maybe she's more than what I decided she is, too._

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, his phone vibrated.

Slowly, he drew it from his pocket, expecting—hoping?—to see Judy's face on the screen again. Instead, it was a group text for everyone in the Den of Thieves.

He snorted. So word hadn't traveled far enough yet to have his number removed.

Out of habit, he opened the text. A meeting. Tonight. The usual place and time. Need to discuss the Den's follow-up to the presentation by Painter and his crew.

For a moment, Nick's thumb hovered over the trashcan icon. But he paused. Smirked.

Perhaps he would go to _one_ more meeting after all.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 2:34 p.m._

* * *

For the second time that day, Bogo lumbered into the interrogation room holding Martin Spotsberg. This time, he sat across from both the hyena and a jaguar in a sharp business suit.

Letting out a long sigh, Bogo steepled his hooves together as he regarded them. "Well, Spotsberg, with such extensive evidence of your crimes, I hope you're not planning to plead not guilty."

"Despite what you think, I'm not a complete _idiot_ ," Spotsberg spat between grit teeth. "I knew this might happen to me one day. I just decided it was still better than living under the thumbs of _prey_." His stare hardened. "I joined the Den because they gave me the supplies I wanted to fight back. Now that I'm in here, it's every mammal for himself."

Bogo stared back at him with a practiced neutral expression. "A plea deal, then?"

"Sentences reduced to half the usual prison time, along with a chance for parole," the jaguar supplied. He had the steady and quiet yet intent gaze of a primitive cat watching his lunch. If Bogo had been a smaller, less capable mammal, he might have been intimidated.

"That all depends on what you're offering in return," the chief said.

Martin snorted. "Information about the Den of Thieves. What else would I offer?"

Arching a brow, Bogo replied, "Actual evidence would work more in your favor."

" _Information_ ," the hyena growled. "I can tell you when and where the next meeting will be."

Bogo slowly leaned back and scratched his chin, carefully regarding the two predators before him. For a long time, the ZPD had strongly suspected that the crime boss Mr. Big was a leader in the Den of Thieves and that many meetings were held in his opulent mansion. However, they had yet to gather enough evidence to warrant a raid. The word of one of its members _might_ be enough.

"Half the prison time might not be workable," he said. "Two-thirds."

" _Half!_ " Martin insisted.

But his lawyer smoothly interjected. "We can negotiate with the judge, but we'll start with half."

Though his jaw clenched, Martin nodded tersely. Bogo crossed his arms and let silence dangle among them for a moment.

"All right, then," he said. "Talk."

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 5:20 p.m._

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Judy pushed the apartment door open. The whole walk home, she'd been torturing herself with positive talk about how Nick _might_ have decided to come back during her shift. Maybe he would surprise her with dinner, flowers, and a kiss. He might apologize, say there was a misunderstanding, he'd had to leave for an emergency because his relative was sick, but he'd lost or forgotten his phone somewhere, and they should definitely cuddle on the couch with a movie and forget the rest of the world.

So she had to take a few _more_ deep breaths to stop herself from crying again when she stepped into a cold, dark, and silent apartment.

For a moment, she just stood there. A couple weeks ago, she would have immediately transitioned into her Crossfire persona and spent the rest of her evening "making the world a better place"—not that she was sure what that even meant anymore. Especially not after last night. Behind the constant, throbbing pain of worry and anxiety over her roommate still lay embarrassment and regret over her interactions with the Hustler.

Absentmindedly, she wandered into Nick's room and turned on the light, looking slowly around at the signs that he had once been there. Her glazed eyes swept around the walls, the windowsills, the closet—and stopped there.

Blinking, she took a few steps closer, leaning inside to peer at the corner. With a trembling paw, she picked up a familiar metal box attached to a black strap.

She'd seen that box before.

She'd seen it several times on the muzzle of a fox in a black mask, distorting his voice when he spoke.

She'd seen it on the muzzle of a fox in a black mask who had run to her defense and knocked out a caracal last night. She remembered sensing something odd about it at the time, telling herself that she would figure it out later…

Suddenly, its strangeness was obvious. He'd somehow made a beeline for _her_ in a crowded, chaotic melee, just to sucker-punch a caracal who had sexually harassed her and then pushed her toward a hyena with a gun. He had seemed enraged. It had felt so… specific. So personal.

And this box. She grasped it in her paw, eyes widening.

 _He's_ …

She slapped her own forehead, heart racing with a mixture of mortification and elation. "I am the _dumbest_ bunny!" she groaned. Then she hurried into her bedroom to start changing into her Crossfire outfit, mumbling, "But in my defense, what _are_ the odds? Seriously."

After spraying a cloud of musk mask over herself, Judy made her normal leap out the bedroom window. Time for a fox hunt.

* * *

 **A/N: Having worked in employment background checks for several years, allow me to tell you that "job abandonment" does** _ **not**_ **tend to look good on a resume/CV or application. Not every employer will** _ **ask**_ **to verify your employment history, and even if they do, not every company for which you've worked will explicitly** _ **tell**_ **them that you abandoned the job without notice, especially if they're** _ **huge**_ **, non-franchised** **companies that use outsourced and automated verification systems that usually confirm nothing more than your dates of employment, final job title, and SSN (if you're American)—but just try to avoid it if possible. Save it for emergencies. If you** _ **do**_ **leave your job without notice, at least be honest about it. There's always a chance someone like me will be hired to find out the truth, which makes you look bad.**

 **Also, it's not nice to your co-workers, so…**

 **And don't worry. Things will start getting happy again soon.**

 **See you next week!**


	14. None of Us Were Angels

**Chapter 14—None of Us Were Angels**

 **A/N: Yes, I am posting on Sunday rather than Saturday. I didn't have time to finish the chapter as quickly as I wanted, but at least it's still the weekend! Thank you for your patience. :) I've never tried portraying a police raid before, so it needed some extra work and attention on my part.**

 **That's also one of the many reasons why Camoss and Libious deserve to have cookies of gratitude rain down upon them. They helped me tweak it. If it's terrible, though, that's my fault.**

 **And thank you** _ **so much**_ **for all your comments, everyone. I'm continuing to only** _ **barely**_ **manage my to-do list with my current schedule, so please continue to be patient with me as I try to find enough time to catch up with everyone. Be assured that I love each and every review and would hug all of you if I could. :)**

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:02 p.m._

* * *

Judy had no idea which building's roof she was crossing right now. She was just grateful that the edges were high enough to conceal her from anyone who might happen to look up from the street. Although she didn't know where _Nick_ might be, she had some guesses as to where to find the _Hustler_ , and one of those places was Big's mansion.

As she neared the train station, where she intended to sneak a ride into Tundratown, she cringed when her ears were suddenly assaulted with the sound of sirens. Trying to control her breathing, she glanced over the edge and instinctively threw herself flat against the rooftop when she saw four— _four!_ —police cruisers coming toward the traffic light just below her vantage point.

 _Sweet cheese and crackers,_ she hissed at herself in her mind. _Why are there so many—_

She blinked.

Though she wasn't an expert on the layout of the city yet, Judy knew that particular traffic light led to a freeway connected to Tundratown.

Four police cruisers on their way to the district where she knew the Den of Thieves tended to meet? Right after one of their members was captured? What were the odds of that?

 _Has something happened?_

Ears pressed against the back of her head, Judy peered over the edge again, squinting her eyes intently at the cruisers. For the first time since hearing that the Mammal Inclusion Initiative hadn't passed, Judy was actually thankful for it. The police cruisers were designed to transport large mammals, meaning that she was small enough to stow away on one and possibly hitch a ride to a certain mansion. Hopefully, it would lead her to a particular fox.

As she grasped a gutter to slide into an alley, she balked at herself. A wanted vigilante, barreling into a police raid when she's wanted by _both_ sides?

But then a pair of bright green eyes and a warm smirk rose in her mind, and all she could think was that the risk was more than worth it.

And that thought propelled her to jump onto the bumper of a police cruiser just as it slowed to get around an obediently stopped car near the alley where she waited.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:29 p.m._

* * *

After stomping one foot on a particular brick in the floor, Nick rested his paws in his pockets as a piece of the wall in front of him rose slowly until he could step into a spare tea parlor in Mr. Big's mansion, dim and slightly dusty from lack of use. Big didn't like entertaining guests in this room if he could help it, as he hated the gaudy color scheme but couldn't bring himself to update it yet because his darling grandmother had decorated it herself. Not for the first time, Nick thanked his past self for befriending Fru Fru, who trusted him enough to show him a few of the secret passageways hidden throughout the grounds, and he blessed Grandmama's dear, departed spirit for thinking to put one in here.

Dressed in his regular outfit as the Hustler—minus the voice distortion box, which he must have dropped on his way out of the apartment and would have to pick up later—Nick hefted his duffel bag over his shoulder and checked the time on his cell. Still half an hour left before the meeting would start. That should be enough.

Hardly daring to breathe, Nick picked up a framed photograph of Grandmama from a tea table, tiptoed slowly to the closed door, and pressed his ear against the wood. No one seemed to be in the hallway, so he inched the door open just wide enough to pass through, scurrying silently toward a door concealed in shadow at the other end.

Simply out of curiosity, he lightly jiggled the knob, but as expected, it was firmly locked. He peered into the tiny hole barely visible in the knob, checking for an even smaller red light inside it. Upon confirming it was there, he nodded to himself, backed up, and held the photograph of Grandmama in front of the knob.

Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried to slowly raise the photograph higher, then brought it down again. He held it closer, then farther away. Clicking his tongue, he even made a few circles in the air with it.

"Come on," he mumbled to himself. "What, you don't recognize the Big family matriarch?" He paused, squinting his eyes at the door. "This _was_ her office, right?"

After carefully examining his surroundings for a moment, he nodded confidently and kept waving the photograph in front of the knob. "Of course. This entire freaking _hallway_ was hers. I can hear her screeching now about how the maids need to dust it."

It still wasn't working, but he simply kept moving the photograph around, trying not to be reminded of his two-month stint working as a grocery store cashier when he was a teenager. It had been a little surprising to find out how many bar codes needed several swipes before the blasted things would just—

The door made a satisfying clicking sound. Nick smiled.

"Finally," he whispered as he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Once the door quietly clicked shut behind him, he took a moment to examine the room. Grandmama truly loved garish colors, which complemented her outspoken personality. Despite the waning evening light wafting through the windows, the bold, sparkly, and sequined reds, purples, and golds that defined the carpet, curtains, couches, coffee table runner, and office chair all threatened to blind Nick immediately. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and then he jumped slightly when he noticed the porcelain dolls and figurines modeled after various mammals lining every square inch of the numerous shelves, even crowding the little fireplace. He groaned, having forgotten about that.

Trying to ignore the blank stares and smiles of the dolls that surrounded him, Nick headed toward a music box on one of the waist-level shelves behind the office chair. He lifted the gold-colored quilted lid with its frilly lace trimming. Right away, it started playing a charming and tinkly rendition of Grandmama's favorite melody, Whitney Hogston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody," as the teensy figurine of an Arctic shrew ballerina twirled in circles.

Gently, Nick pulled on the ballerina figure, revealing that the rod on which it spun was much longer than it seemed. It halted immediately, as did the music, while a hatch beneath the desk flipped open, revealing a flight of stairs just big enough for a polar bear. He meandered down the staircase and smirked at the mounds of money before him, the remains of Grandmama's personal fortune.

Mr. Big had truly learned from the best.

But Big also had a habit of using Grandmama's money to finance the Den of Thieves. Having been close to the old Arctic shrew before her passing, Nick had known that she had mixed feelings about the Den and likely wouldn't have appreciated her grandson's methods of spending what she left him. The fact that Grandmama would have probably approved of what Nick was about to do next helped him feel less guilty about it.

The fox tossed the duffel bag on the floor, reached inside it, and pulled out a few cannoli filled with chocolate cream. After stuffing the duffel bag with as much many wads of bills as he could while still being able to zip it closed, he arranged the cannoli neatly on what was left of the mound. Finally, he set the framed photograph of her sweet, wrinkly face behind the cannoli. It looked like a mini shrine to her memory, and she would have loved it.

For a moment, Nick let himself admire his handiwork. Then he sauntered back upstairs, released the ballerina figurine, and closed the lid of the music box as the hatch behind him clamped shut.

Quietly, he opened the office door and stepped back into the empty hallway.

The second he closed the door, his ears twitched at the sound of alarmingly weighty crash at the front of the mansion.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:59 p.m._

* * *

Grimacing and rubbing her shoulder, Judy had to admit that she should've thought more about how she was going to escape the notice of the ZPD _before_ they started getting close to the mansion. Only then had it occurred to her that they'd probably try to arrest her at the same time as all the members of the Den of Thieves. After all, she was still on their list of wanted lawbreakers.

So she had done what any reasonable mammal would do—she rolled off the bumper and smacked into the bars of the gate when the cruiser passed through it.

Her self-pitying was interrupted by the sound of more cruisers approaching the gate, sending her scurrying behind a nearby bush. Minutes later, she winced at the startlingly loud thunder of a rhinoceros tearing open the mansion's front entrance by slamming his body against it. Peering between the leaves, she watched as the police rapidly streamed inside in single file. She couldn't quite decide what scared her more—getting caught by the police or having to watch Nick get hauled away in pawcuffs. Heart hammering urgently against her chest, she glanced around. There didn't seem to be a way for her to get inside the mansion unnoticed with the police everywhere. The polar bears had all retreated indoors the second they saw the cruisers, but they probably weren't far from the entrances.

One of the officers who was keeping watch outside looked in her direction. Stifling a gasp, Judy crouched lower, praying that he hadn't seen her. Again, she studied her surrounding, this time noticing a huge shed some feet away. Although her utility belt was stocked with most of her usual supplies, perhaps the shed would have additional tools that would help her figure out how to get inside the mansion. If nothing else, it was a better hiding place than a bush.

Holding her breath, Judy crept toward the shed and pulled the door open just enough to slip inside without a sound. She let herself exhale as she straightened and absorbed her surroundings. The shed contained many items that she would have expected to see—rakes, shovels, brooms, wrenches, pliers, hammers, trimmers, saws, knives, nails, nuts, bolts, paint cans, gloves, lighters, leaf blowers, fertilizer, a mower—as well as a few that surprised her, including old paintings, fireworks of all kinds, and… porcelain dolls?

 _Weird family_ , Judy thought to herself as she stepped toward one of the dolls. It was modeled to look like a sweet-faced Arctic shrew, and although its vacant gaze was rather unsettling, she had to admit that the lace dress was lovely. She gently lifted the hem to admire it—and caught sight of a small red button on the doll's palm.

It was cliché, and she knew it, but curiosity convinced her to press the button. Then she barely suppressed a yelp when she jumped back at the sound of a trap door swinging downward behind her feet and whapping a wall beneath the floor.

Clutching her pounding chest, Judy stared incredulously at the door as though waiting for it to apologize for scaring her. After collecting herself, she fished a flashlight from her utility belt and directed it into the door. There was a set of wooden stairs leading downward.

 _Well_ , Judy shrugged, _maybe it's worth a shot._

Carefully, she descended the staircase.

* * *

 _Day 10: Thursday, June 26_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:05 p.m._

* * *

Soon after the police stormed into the mansion, Nick could hear the sounds of shouting, door slamming, and guns shooting in the ballroom. The police were demanding to be let inside, of course, but the answering screams of the Thieves were less distinguishable from where Nick stood. The ballroom, he knew, was in the center of the mansion, closed off by several sets of heavy oak doors, and the main entrance opened into a huge hall that branched off into half a dozen smaller halls, none blocked by additional doors—and one of those open halls contained a very distressed and very alone Nick with a bag full of stolen money. All the police had to do was split up and try searching the rest of the mansion for another way into the ballroom—one of which actually _was_ in this hallway—and he would be no longer be a free fox.

Cursing, Nick hurried down to the other end of the corridor, toward Grandmama's tea parlor.

And as soon as his paw touched the knob, the door opened by itself.

Suddenly, he was standing face-to-face with a masked bunny he knew very well by now.

His heart was not prepared for it. Breath and body frozen, he stared at her. She stared back.

"Nick," Judy whispered.

The sound of her uttering his name in these circumstances sent shocked chills rocketing down Nick's spine.

 _How did she_ —

The fox opened his mouth, but that was when it hit him that he lost something. His paw shot up to the mask, right to the place where the voice distortion device should be.

Seeing his reaction, Judy drew the small box from one of the pockets in her utility belt. Nick momentarily squeezed his eyes shut, holding back a frustrated sigh.

 _So now she knows_.

The lie was uncovered.

And she was still here.

Despite wanting to kick himself, Nick also felt a warm deluge of relief and affection was trying to push him toward her, urging him to embrace her. But it mixed with the anger and fear that he hadn't fully processed yet. He took a firm step backward, raising his paws as though to defend himself from a hug.

"Nick, I…" Judy continued, clasping her paws pleadingly in front of her chest. "Please, we need to—"

For some reason, Nick was actually glad when a tiger Thief suddenly burst into the hall from one of the ballroom entrances and spotted them. Understandably, his goggled eyes glared at the sight of a Thief having a conversation with a hated enemy.

"Hey!" the tiger commanded as he stomped toward them, unsheathing his claws. "Stop!"

Nick raised his paws placatingly, mindful of the duffel bag still on his shoulder. "I think you'll find that we've already stopped," he said in his best soothing voice. "And we—"

Then a pellet sped past his line of sight, and everything was suddenly clouded in smoke. Judy yanked him into the tea parlor while the tiger coughed and wheezed behind them. The movement was so abrupt that his duffel bag fell to the floor before he could catch it. Judy slammed the parlor door closed and started pulling him toward the open piece of the wall.

"How did you even—" Nick began, then shook his head and jerked his paw away. "Wait. I can't leave yet."

"Nick, there's no time!" Judy exclaimed, but Nick was already moving back toward the parlor door. "And we need to talk!"

"I _need_ to get my duffel bag!" Nick snapped at her over his shoulder.

"Nick, no—"

But he was already pulling the door open and looking up at a furiously wheezing tiger. The smoke from Judy's pellet was already dissipating.

When the tiger swiped, Nick stumbled backwards to evade it. He glanced rapidly around the parlor, noting with terror that Judy was nowhere in sight.

 _Oh, no. Where is she?_

"Your friend got away, huh?" the tiger observed, his muscular figure filling the doorframe. His voice was a little raspy as he snarled at the fox. "Down that secret tunnel there?"

Before he could reply, a bunny foot came swinging down from above the frame.

 _Oh, there she is_.

Judy's foot connected with the tiger's face and sent him tumbling backwards. Nick hurried to snatch up the duffel bag and scramble toward the open piece of the wall. As he neared it, he turned to take Judy's paw—and found her struggling in the tiger's firm grip.

"J—" he started, then caught himself. "Crossfire!"

She might have answered if it weren't for the tiger's paw over her mouth. With the agility passed down to him by his primal ancestors, the tiger stood and dashed back into the ballroom, the bunny in his arms.

For a second, Nick lingered by the open tunnel. But only for a second.

Then he grabbed the nearest teacup and bolted toward the ballroom entrance, sticking the teacup between the door and its frame so that it couldn't close and self-lock. He pressed himself to the wall beside the frame. His ear twitched as he desperately soaked up every bit of conversation he could.

"Found the vigilante bunny," the tiger was saying to someone.

"We sent you to get the spare guns!" the other mammal answered.

" _Think!_ " the tiger snapped. "They don't care about us, but they'll care about the bunny just because she's prey! We can use her as a hostage!"

Nick shook his head. Of course they would.

As he fought to control his breathing, the tiger's idea was quickly being passed throughout the ballroom. Within seconds, he heard Big's voice called out through a megaphone, " _We have the bunny vigilante, Crossfire, here as a hostage._ _Say hello, Crossfire._ "

Then there was Judy's tiny, trembling voice. " _Please just go, just_ —"

But her words abruptly turned to muffled screams. Big's voice returned.

" _If you leave now, she will not be harmed. If you persist, she will be killed. Please advise us of your choice_."

 _No!_ Nick's heart raced in sheer panic. _No, no, no, no, no!_

Tears sprang to his eyes, blurring his view as his leaden legs started sprinting as rapidly as they could before he could even think twice about it. He knew these halls so well by now. It didn't make much time for him to find the front entrance hall, where at least two dozen officers, decked out in bullet proof vests, protective masks, and limb guards, waited for instructions from their towering, stoic buffalo chief.

Swallowing, Nick stepped into sight, paws up and palms forward. The chief, arms crossed contemplatively, caught his eye. Not daring to speak, lest there was the smallest chance that the Thieves could hear him from inside the ballroom, Nick jerked his head toward the hallway from which he'd come. Nevertheless, the buffalo continued scrutinizing him carefully, unmoving.

With a shaking paw, Nick slowly drew his cell phone out of his pocket. After deleting his entire text message history, he created pulled up a notepad app and typed a message. " _There's a secret entrance. I'll lead you there._ "

Cautiously, and with his free paw raised non-threateningly in the air, Nick set the phone on the floor and slid it toward the chief. The slight noise alerted other officers to his presence, some of whom pivoted to point their guns at the fox. However, the chief calmed them with a simple placating gesture, then picked it up and examined the message with a blank expression. He carefully wrote his own message—the phone was comically small for his hoof, but he somehow managed—and pushed it back.

Nick lifted it and read the response. " _Are you the fox rumored to have been working with Crossfire?_ "

Deftly, Nick replied, " _Yes. Please save her._ "

He gave the phone a gentle kick to send it back to the chief, whose eyes roved the message a twice before he focused a grim and thoughtful expression on the fox.

Big's resounded once more in the silence, amplified by the megaphone. " _We are waiting for your decision, officers. We will give you ten minutes._ "

Nick kept his attention fixed on the chief, trying to channel every ounce of his desperation into his gaze. When the chief only continued to regard him with his eyes narrowed suspiciously, he broke eye contact to lower himself carefully to his paws and knees, head down.

 _Please_ , he begged in his mind. _Please_.

After a moment, he looked up. Finally, without a word, the chief nodded.

Within seconds, Nick was leading a group of tiptoeing ZPD officers through the halls until they reached the one that had once been dominated by Grandmama. He pointed quietly at the teacup wedged between the ballroom door and frame. Bogo nodded tersely, then motioned to the squad leader, a rhinoceros who wasted no time slamming his shoulder against the heavy door and charging inside, the other officers streaming behind him.

Nick surged forward as well, maneuvering around the legs of officers and Thieves alike, ignoring the gunshots, the tranquilizer darts, the screams, the falling bodies.

He searched, and then he saw her being carried away in the arms of a polar bear who was shielding Big running toward the back of the stage. Looking around, he watched a ZPD officer fall to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg. The fox swiftly snatched the officer's tranquilizer gun, prayed that they were fairly similar to lethal guns, and fired at the polar bear.

The dart sailed through the air and stuck itself in the bear's shoulder. It only took a couple seconds for the bear to drop to his knees. Nick dropped the tranquilizer gun near the wounded officer and then rushed up the stairs of the stage, narrowly avoiding being darted twice himself. Mr. Big was already disappearing down a tiny escape hatch when Nick slid underneath the bear's arms to catch Judy as she fell. He carried her away just before the bear crashed to the stage floor.

Once Judy was on her feet, Nick grasped her paw, and they tried to make themselves as small as possible as they sprinted out of the ballroom, into the tea parlor tunnel, and up the wooden staircase to the shed. Nick let go of Judy's paw, but only to peer out the window.

"Nick," Judy said behind him. "Can… Can we—"

"They could come back anytime," he murmured, turning back to her and removing his mask. "We'll talk later."

Sighing, Judy nodded and opened the duffel bag. She shot him a questioning look when she saw it was filled with wads of large dollar bills, but then she waved her paw dismissively, focusing instead on grabbing hammers, knives, lighters, and fireworks and stuffing them into the bag as well.

"Carrots," Nick said, spreading his paws. "What are you doing?"

"Unlike you, I'm not used to having someone finance my vigilantism," Judy answered, zipping the duffel bag closed and hefting it over her shoulder. "I've learned to take what's available when I find it."

"You called me a vigilante," Nick said, letting a smirk enter his voice.

Her eyes crinkled behind her mask as she smiled warmly at him. "You called me Carrots." Then she nodded at the door to the shed. "Come on. They'll probably keep looking for us, but I think I know where we can lay low for a while."

Wordlessly, the fox and bunny crept out of the shed, remaining the shadows of the bushes and trees and as far away as possible from the ZPD officers who anxiously watched the mansion. Wordlessly, Nick led Judy to the garage, pointing out the limousine that Manchas used to drive. He was barely big enough to drive it himself if he stretched. Fortunately, Judy didn't cast him any judgmental glances when he hot-wired it and then drove it out the mansion's small and unguarded back gate, the one that led into an orchard. It meant they had to off-road a bit—not ideal for a limousine—but soon enough, they were on the highway.

"Where are we going?" Nick asked once the mansion was out of sight.

"The train station," Judy replied, sitting back in the seat with a sigh of relief.

Nick nodded. "Okay, but we have to make one more stop to change."

After a few minutes, they pulled up by the field with Nick's favorite abandoned bridge. Wordlessly, he motioned at Judy to follow him. He kept his gaze averted from her sorrowful eyes when they reached the bridge and the few belongings he'd brought to keep underneath it. From one of his suitcases, he drew a complete outfit for himself—his usual Pawaiian shirt and slacks—and tossed a striped, short-sleeved, button-up shirt to Judy. On her, it was long enough to look like an odd dress. She accented it by selecting one of his belts to buckle around her waist. They turned their backs to each other as they changed, and Nick wrestled to keep his imagination in check. Their costumes went into the duffel bag, which looked ready to burst at the seams by this point.

When they were both ready, they agreed it was safest to leave the limousine by the field, deciding to take a city bus instead. They disembarked at the train station, where Nick furtively fished one of the bills from his duffel bag as they got in the line outside the ticket booth.

"What tickets are we buying?" Nick queried as he folded the bill and slid it into his pocket.

"One-way to Bunnyburrow," Judy answered. When Nick hung his head with a long sigh, she exclaimed, " _What?_ "

Nick furrowed his brows and looked at her pleadingly. "Do we _have_ to?"

Quirking a brow, Judy retorted, "Do you have any other ideas?"

Again, Nick exhaled heavily, shaking his head. Pasting a bright smile onto his face, he politely requested the tickets from the seller.

Ten minutes of exhausted silence passed between them as they waited for the train to arrive. More than once, Nick caught Judy open her mouth from the corner of his eye, but she never followed through with whatever she wanted to say. As for him, he was still processing the lingering hurt and fury from their argument last night, elation that they were together again, relief that she was safe, confusion and frustration that she'd even put herself in danger in the first place, and trepidation about what would happen next. Words were drowned in any attempt to make sense of it all.

Finally, the train gently screeched to a stop before them. They boarded and chose a small cabin for themselves, blocked from the rest of the world with a wall and door of glass.

Wordlessly, they took their seats. Once the train started to move, Judy seemed to find her voice at last.

"Thank you," she said solemnly. "Thank you for saving me tonight."

And just like that, Nick's blood was brought to a boil.

"So…" he said, turning to glower at her. "Are you _insane_?" When she only blinked at him in bewilderment, he deepened his glare and continued. "You could have been _killed_ back there."

"Well," Judy glanced away for a moment, shrugged, and met his eyes levelly. "I needed you to know that I trust you."

Her coolheaded, patient demeanor only irritated Nick further.

"So leave your credit cards out in the open or something," Nick hissed, cutting the air with an angry wave.

Judy raised a sardonic brow. "It's not like you never knew where I keep all my things," she pointed out. "Anyway, that wouldn't have been enough. My mistake was questioning your integrity and whether you valued life, so I needed you to know that I trust you with _my_ life. It was only fitting."

"That's _ridiculous_ , you dumb bunny," Nick growled. "What if I hadn't come after you, huh? That was quite a gamble to make."

"It wasn't a gamble," Judy replied confidently.

Nick stopped and stared at her soft, knowing smile. It made him want to scream, cry, rage, and hug her all at once. Turning away from her, he crossed his arms and hung his head.

"Why did you feel so desperate for me to know something like that?" he asked quietly.

She laid a gentle paw on his shoulder, but he didn't look at her.

"Because I'm sorry," she responded, a telltale hitch in her voice. "I'm _so_ sorry, Nick. I was wrong to judge you the way that I did. I wanted you back, and I would've done anything for you to understand how much I care about you and believe in you." He heard her release a sob, and only then did he turn to meet her pleading, glimmering eyes. "Did it work, Nick? Please tell me it worked. Please forgive me and—"

As soon as he had wrapped her tightly in his arms, she stopped talking and simply let herself cry against his chest instead. He nuzzled her shoulder and stroked her drooping ears, trying to resist the urge to break down himself.

"Judy," he muttered. "You almost _died_ just to apologize."

"I was never going to die," she calmed herself enough to answer, still sniffling.

"You have too much faith in me," Nick insisted. "What if I couldn't stop them in time?"

He felt her shake her head deep into his fur. "I never doubted you. Especially not since I realized my mistake. You're the Hustler, and more importantly, you're _Nick_." After a moment, she pulled back and craned her neck to look up at him. "So you forgive me?"

"Of course," Nick said quickly, gently pushing her head back against him. "Just don't ever do something stupid like that again. If you had been killed, I—" He stopped, swallowed, shivered, and squeezed his eyes shut. "You're just too important to me, Judy."

A pause. "Even after what I said?" Her voice was muffled in his fur, but he had no trouble understanding her words. "Even after finding out who I am?"

With a saddened sigh, Nick began to answer. "I was angry, hurt, and confused, Judy, but I still… I still…"

Realizing what he was about to say, his eyes flung themselves open and widened. It was something that hadn't even occurred to him until just now, and yet it seemed so obvious. So obvious, in fact, that he had been about to rattle it off without even thinking.

How could he have missed this?

And how could it have _possibly_ happened?

But it had.

He must have been quiet for too long. Judy drew back and stared at him with a mixture of curiosity, concern, and hope, the rims of her beautiful violet eyes still red.

"What is it, Nick?" she asked softly.

It seemed like there should be a better time and place for this, but something about her eyes locked on his forced the truth out of him right then and there.

"I love you," he whispered.

Judy's mouth fell open as her brows tented upward. She studied every inch of his face as though searching for a lie. "Really?" she breathed.

Blinking, Nick could only reiterate the fact. "I love you." Then he clasped her in a firm embrace, letting out a sound that was something like a laugh and a whimper at the same time. "I love you so much, Judy!" Suddenly, and much to his surprise, he was crying into her shoulder, much to his surprise, but he couldn't seem to help it. "And I almost lost you. I love you, and I almost _lost_ you!"

He felt Judy's arms slide up his sides and surround him. One of her paws started gently smoothing the fur on his ears. "Shh, shh," she said soothingly. "It's all right."

It felt like years before Nick was able to get himself under control again, but it was probably only minutes. When he did, Judy repositioned herself in his arms so that he could see her smiling tenderly at him as her paws framed his cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the wetness.

"I love you, too, Nick," she murmured. Her voice echoed the comforting warmth and sincerity in her eyes, and Nick felt like he was melting into her. "With everything in me, I love you."

Somehow, that just drove them both to start sobbing again. The bunny and fox clutched each other tightly, crying tears of relief and joy, finding solace only in their closeness.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **:3**

 **Don't you worry. I have plans for that stolen money. *grins mischievously* And they have a lot more talking to do.**

 **Anyone else ever worked as a cashier and had those bar codes that just** _ **wouldn't scan?!**_ **Ugh!**

 **And Grandmama is slightly based off my own grandmother, who loved shopping, gaudiness, sequins, Yahtzee, Whitney Houston, Michael Bolton, being** _ **terribly**_ **rude (and not always funny-rude, but rude-rude), and making her tiny house into an unofficial museum with more dolls, figurines, and other knickknacks than actual walking or eating space. Although she probably wouldn't like being memorialized as an Arctic shrew, I assume there are better things to do in the spirit world than haunt me over it. She's the reason I actually do** _ **not**_ **get creeped out by porcelain dolls because I became accustomed to them. In fact, she got me one for my birthday every year when I was a kid, all of which I gave a name starting with "L" (though I have no idea where they are now). She's** _ **also**_ **the reason I like collecting mugs.**

 **Anyway, enough random facts about me. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Looking forward to seeing you next week. :D**


	15. Like the Sun

**Chapter 15—Like the Sun**

 **A/N: My deepest apologies for posting so late. Last week was even busier than usual, and then I was having technical difficulties with my laptop that I couldn't seem to figure out, which cut significantly into my writing time. But that's okay, because I was looking for an excuse to get a** _ **new**_ **laptop, and now I have one!**

 **This chapter covers three days. We're slowing things down a bit before picking them up again. Our fox and bunny have things to discuss, figure out, and learn about each other. In fact, this chapter is mostly fluff. It also turned out to be a** _ **lot**_ **longer than I thought it would be, which is another reason for the delay, and I'm worried it feels too rushed as a result, but at least it's here.**

 **Also, since this chapter goes over a few key points of Nick's back story and character development, I'd like to dedicate it to two people: A former reader who expected me to tell the story the way they wanted it told (that is, revealing all these points much earlier than I planned), and my former self, who tried so hard to appease this person—even to the point of giving them a few spoilers to try to keep them interested and satisfied—but to no avail. I've grown a lot since then. Although I welcome constructive criticism, I'm quite done simply being told what to do and bending over backwards for people who just aren't going to be happy unless I do things their way. Cheers to better self-esteem. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me this far and helped me feel like this story was worthwhile to tell.**

 **As always, eternities of thanks to my wonderful friends and editors, Camoss and Libious, who checked over this chapter and helped make it better despite having to deal with their own problems.**

 **Enjoy the chapter, lovelies. :)**

* * *

 _Day 11: Friday, June 27_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:25 a.m._

* * *

"Yannis," Judy coughed pathetically into her cell phone, "I can't make it into work today. I'm sick."

Helpfully, Nick paused in the act of cooking omelets on her family's stove to sprinkle some pepper onto his palm and toss it at her face. She sneezed, nose twitching, and shot the fox a heatless, playful glare from where she sat on the kitchen counter while listening to Yannis sigh on the other end of the line. Smirking, Nick bowed with a flourish and mouthed, " _You're welcome_."

For a second, Judy was so distracted by admiring the fox's roguishly handsome visage in the morning sunlight that she missed what Yannis was saying to her. She cleared her throat, trying to make it sound full of mucus. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm pretty sure it's just a cold, but I wouldn't want to get anyone else sick, so… Yeah, I'd better just take a couple days. I'll let you know how I'm feeling on Tuesday. Okay, thanks." With that, she ended the call and released a long sigh. "Well, that's done."

Nick shook his head at her. "I didn't realize that you were such a great liar. Should I be worried?"

Blinking and pressing a paw to her chest in indignation, Judy replied, "No! Not at all!" Then she grinned and leaned toward him conspiratorially. "Actually, before I decided to be a cop, I wanted to be an actress. I used to practice all kinds of roles."

"Ah," Nick chuckled. "I'm sure the role of the sick employee is nothing, then."

"Nothing at all," Judy agreed absentmindedly as she gazed at the fox, who was focused on his cooking. Despite all that they'd been through in the last couple of days, it seemed he'd been smiling almost nonstop since their train ride last night. She'd never seen him like this. He was almost glowing.

Maybe—probably—the recent events would catch up to them soon, and they'd have more difficulty remaining positive. But for now, she relished every second of seeing him like this.

He seemed… _happy_. It made her happy, too.

The fox glanced up and let his eyes settle warmly on her. "What's on your mind, Carrots?"

Judy opened her mouth to answer, but both the words and her own smile faded when her father walked into the kitchen with a forced casualness that almost made her cringe. He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and bounced on his feet a little too cheerily to be natural.

"Hey, Jude the Dude," Stu greeted jovially before turning an uneasy smile toward Nick. "Mr. Wilde. Good to see you this morning."

Nick nodded with more graciousness than Judy felt at that moment. "Thanks, Mr. Hopps," he responded. "Same to you."

"Good morning, Dad," Judy said, staring at her father with a pointedly rigid grin. "I thought you'd be in the fields by now."

"Aww, you know," Stu said, waving his paw in circles with a frozen, awkward grin as he paused to figure out exactly what Judy was supposed to know. "Just, uh—you know, just—thought I'd help your mom with some laundry first. Think all the littlest kits went through three outfits apiece yesterday on account of all the dirt they were playing in."

Ever since Judy had arrived on their porch late last night, standing next to a fox and very obviously wearing one of his shirts, her parents had been… on-edge. She had introduced him as her good friend, someone she completely trusted, and explained that he'd needed a new place to hang around for a few days while his apartment was being fumigated, so she'd invited him to come with her to Bunnyburrow because she was homesick anyway.

Obviously, she'd left out a few details.

They hadn't outright _said_ it, but everything about her parents' stiff politeness toward Nick screamed that they were accommodating him for the sake of their daughter and their own sense of hospitality but would remain suspicious of every move he made. There was no way that Judy's father would be in the kitchen rather than the fields right now if he weren't worried that she would be secretly cooked and served for dinner that evening.

One look at Nick told her that he was thinking the same thing. His smile had disappeared.

Immediately, Judy slid off the counter and onto the tiled floor, taking her father's arm and leading him out of the kitchen. "Well, as you can see, Mom isn't in the kitchen right now. Family breakfast ended about half an hour ago, so she's off doing chores with everyone else. Let's go find her."

The second they were in one of the many bedroom hallways and well out of earshot, Stu halted and spun to face his daughter. "Jude, are you okay?"

Judy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself that her father, while ignorant, truly cared about her. "Yes, Dad. I already told you that I trust him."

"I know, I know you did," Stu said quickly. "It's just—well, he's a fox, you know, and you remember what happened with Gideon Grey?"

Propping her fists on her hips, Judy sighed. "I was _nine_ when that happened. Gideon Grey was just a jerk who happened to be a fox. Nick is nothing like him."

Despite her reassurances, Stu wrung his paws together for a moment. "Okay, sure, but—but you have your fox repellent, right? And what about a taser? Do you need a taser?"

Judy's eyes widened. "No! Absolutely not, Dad! I'm not going to tase my friend!"

"What about the fox repellent?"

"I don't want to _repel_ him, either!" If anything, Judy craved the _opposite_ of repulsion. She had been searching for excuses and opportunities to bring Nick's wonderful face a _lot_ closer to hers, but they'd slept in separate rooms and hadn't had much time to themselves yet this morning, so she'd had to continuously put off any attempt at physical displays of affection. Since she valued her freedom from locked rooms with barred windows, she did not mention this to her father.

Instead, she let him wrap his arms around her tightly as he sighed. "Look, I'm just worried. He's a fox, and you know how foxes are. Just be careful, okay, Jude?"

She almost answered with "I always am, Dad," but she knew that was a lie. Nodding and hugging him back, she settled with saying, "I promise I'll be fine."

After remaining in the embrace for a little longer, she pulled back and clicked her tongue when she noticed a tear on the corner of her father's eye. Gently, she wiped it away.

"Is there anything that Nick and I can help with today?" she asked. "We don't have any plans, so…"

Sniffling, Stu dabbed away another tear before responding. "Well, some of the berries are ready to be harvested. You know we could always use as many paws as possible on that job."

"Of course," Judy said softly as she patted her father's shoulder. "We'll get right on that after breakfast."

She watched her father walk down the hall until he disappeared into the bedroom he shared with her mother, likely to check on her, too. Then she hurried back to the kitchen, where Nick was scooping the omelettes from the pan and onto a couple of plates. He turned to bring them to the built-in countertop on the opposite side of the stove. When he saw her standing there, he sent her a smile, though it lacked its former brightness.

"Food for you, m'lady," he said mutedly.

"Nick," Judy sighed, taking a seat, "I'm sorry."

The fox only shook his head and shrugged as he came around the counter to sit next to her. For a moment, they simply ate in silence, but Judy soon scooted closer and rested her head on Nick's shoulder. In turn, he laid his cheek on the top of her head.

"Thank you for breakfast," Judy said, craning her neck to softly kiss the fox's cheek. At his hum of approval, she continued. "I don't know if there's anything that you wanted to do today, but my dad said that they could use some help picking berries, if you're interested. We have strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries—"

"Blueberries?" Nick repeated, and Judy grinned when she noticed his tail wag for a moment.

Her mind couldn't help pouncing on that tiny indication of joy. "Blueberries!" she confirmed, sitting up to balance on her knees and throw her arms wide. " _Tons_ of blueberries! More blueberries than you could ever possibly count! Enough blueberries to fill all the holes of the universe! _So many_ blueberries! We could pick them and eat them all day, if you want!"

To her relief and satisfaction, his grin once again contained that genuine happiness that she wanted to see. "All right, Carrots, I get it. Let's head out after we're finished here."

Within minutes, the bunny was leading the fox by the paw outside to her family's field of blueberry bushes, both carrying woven baskets. They started picking ripe blueberries and throwing them in the baskets, but not without eating a pawful every few minutes. From time to time, they tossed berries into each other's mouths, earning "points" for each successful attempt.

When they were about an hour into it, Nick made a comment about the dirt sullying his pants and how he'd have to change before they did anything else. Judy eyed the pants, considering what else she'd seen him pack under the bridge. Suddenly, her heart seemed to hang in her chest like a stone.

How does such a wonderful mammal end up under a bridge?

"Nick," she said hesitantly as she pulled a few berries from a tiny branch, "are you okay with telling me how you ended up with the Den of Thieves?"

There was a pause as Nick carefully used a claw to cut a few berries loose, letting them fall into his palm. "You really want to hear a story like that?"

"Yes," Judy replied immediately. "I want to know everything about you, Nick."

He chuckled. "I don't know if I'm ready for that, even if you are." Then he sighed. "But sure, I can tell you the riveting tale of my life."

After popping a few more blueberries into his mouth, he began. "My father died when I was a baby. I don't really remember him, but my mom says that he was a tailor who died from an illness that he kept hidden from my mother until it was too late to treat." His frown was somewhere between anger and sadness. "A fox was considered a liability to most health insurance companies, so he opted to die rather than saddle my mother with debt, especially since they were still paying off the expenses of my birth."

Judy skipped a breath. "Nick…"

But he went on, not looking at her. "So my mom raised me on her own. We were mostly happy, but I…" He sent her a fond a glance and shook his head. "I was kind of like you, I guess. I wanted to feel like I was doing something good for the world, so I tried to find someplace good to belong and fit in. When I was eight or nine, I joined a scout troop filled with prey mammals." Here, he paused, and Judy almost thought she could _see_ dark memories clouding his eyes. "As I was taking the scout pledge, they made fun of me, pinned me down, and muzzled me, saying they would never trust a fox."

Without thinking, Judy covered her mouth with her paws, suddenly unable to even consider picking up blueberries.

Nick simply shrugged. "So I realized that no matter what I tried to do, other mammals would only ever see me as a conniving, self-serving fox. I grew up giving in to that stereotype, simply because it seemed useless to do anything else. Became a cook because it was one of the only jobs that foxes were considered skilled and trustworthy enough to do, but I did some… you know… hustling… on the side."

He glanced at Judy hesitantly from the corner of his eye, but she only smiled encouragingly and softly set her paw on his shoulder. The way he smiled gratefully and covered his paw with hers sent her heart soaring.

"Anyway, when I reached my late twenties, I just got tired of the way things were," Nick continued with a sigh, "I joined some predators rights groups to try to make changes. Political groups, though… They're not always very effective. Sometimes, mammals just gather and complain or talk about _ideas_ for making change, but they often don't go much further than donating to charities or something. Even the groups that actually _act_ on their ideas aren't always effective. I became disillusioned and depressed, and then I ran into an old friend from high school—Finnick. You remember him."

Judy nodded but didn't dare interrupt.

"He told me about the Den of Thieves," Nick went on. "They were just starting to make waves in those days, and I was impressed. I thought, 'These guys are really making a difference.' I figured I'd go to a meeting, just to check them out… And finally, the fact that I was a fox was seen as useful. They thought my so-called innate slyness would make me essential to their cause. Finally, I felt like I belonged somewhere good." He shrugged again. "I mean, I still had an unhealthy mindset, which is what led me to storming a police station with just a couple small predators and a bunch of guns—whether I was successful or went down in flames, I would have considered it a win."

At that, Judy let out a small gasp. "Nick…"

"I'm better now, Carrots," Nick assured her, smiling fondly and reaching out to pat her arm. She responded by grabbing his paw with both of hers and gazing at him with an expression that hovered somewhere between desperation and open affection. Shaking his head, Nick leaned over to kiss her forehead. Then, with another sigh, he settled into silence for a moment.

"Anyway, I started seriously questioning my decision last year," he said quietly. "There was a… a moose police officer named Miles Vincent who investigated the Den and managed to infiltrate one of our meetings. He was caught. Big actually wanted to keep him alive to see if he could be blackmailed into being a mole for us at the ZPD, but Killshot…"

He squeezed Judy's paw.

"Killshot wasn't having it," he explained. "He didn't trust Miles to be loyal to us, even with blackmail. So he shot him in the chest. And after Miles kept struggling for breath for a while, Killshot… He, uh…" The fox pressed his free paw against his throat and made an abrupt jerking motion outward. "He used his claws to finish the job."

Grimacing, Judy closed her paw over her own throat, though from what she knew about the hyena, it was hardly surprising.

"I'll never forget how it looked. How it smelled." Nick was nearly whispering now. "The torn flesh and clothes, the blood, the way his eyes got wide and blank at—at the same time…"

He paused to swallow. Judy fully turned to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in the crook of his neck. His arms enveloped her tiny frame in return.

"I—I swore," Nick continued around the emotion that Judy could hear choking his voice, "that we would never kill again. Never. I—I had never wanted to be part of that. I just wanted—I just wanted to—"

With a gentle shush, Judy laid a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's okay. I know."

The fox squeezed her close. "Judy," he murmured, "thank you for helping me find the courage to get out of there."

Blinking, Judy pulled back and tilted her head at him. "Huh? How did I do that?"

His smile toward her was warm enough to melt her thoroughly. Good thing she wasn't standing, or else her liquefied knees would have sent her tumbling to the ground.

"You helped me believe that I didn't have to be what other mammals decided I was, even the Den, and you showed me that there are other ways to fight for the life I want," he answered, pressing his forehead against hers. "And you gave me a new place to belong."

Okay. Definitely kissing time.

Wordlessly, Judy rubbed her nose on Nick's before covering his lips with hers.

* * *

 _Day 11: Friday, June 27_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:51 a.m._

* * *

"Carrots," Nick said softly as he and Judy lay on the cool grass next to each other, paw-in-paw. They'd enjoyed themselves picking various types of berries all morning, but both their stomachs had reminded them that it was lunchtime, so they'd taken a basket of sandwiches and fruit to the top of a secluded hill just off the farmland.

"Hmm?" Judy hummed as she repositioned herself to curl against him, her head on his shoulder and her paw on his stomach.

"I want to apologize for something," Nick went on.

Judy lifted her head and furrowed her brows at him. "You? Apologize? What for?"

"You were right about something," the fox sighed. "I didn't turn off that video as soon as I could have. The one at the food drive."

For a moment, Judy looked away, rummaging through her memories. She could vaguely recall chastising Nick for that, but at this point, everything was such a blur.

"I didn't approve of it. It wasn't a productive way to discuss the issue, and I didn't want prey to get hurt because of it," Nick explained. "But I think there was part of me that thought the prey deserved it anyway." He paused, waiting for Judy to respond furiously, but she said nothing. Clearing his throat, he continued. "In a way, it was sort of… _liberating_ to have so many of injustices laid out in the open like that. Still, I…" He patted her paw on his stomach. "I'm sorry."

Judy was quiet for a while, but since she showed no signs of being angry with him, he simply remained still and waited. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I can understand that," she said. She paused before going on. "It's still not as bad as what I did the night of the food drive."

Protectively, Nick brought his arm around her and squeezed her against him. "Carrots, we're already past that."

"I know, it's just—" Judy clicked her tongue and pressed her face against his shoulder. "How could I have done that? I care _so much_ about equal rights for prey and predators, I have worked my _whole life_ to make the world better for _everyone_ , I've tried _so_ hard to get rid of all my prejudices—and then I treated you like that. How could I have failed you so badly?"

"Hey," Nick turned onto his side to hug her tighter, gently holding her head against his chest as his tail wrapped around her legs. "Listen. I'm a fox who embraced the stereotypes forced upon me while trying to fight them at the same time. Maybe it's possible that one mammal can be a lot of things at once. They can be caring _and_ thoughtless, kind _and_ cruel, smart _and_ stupid. They can be good _and_ bad. They can completely believe in something and still struggle with acting on that belief. Mammals are complicated and multidimensional. It's just life." He pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. "Something that I love about you, Carrots, is that you're _always_ fighting. You're always fighting against the things that make the world imperfect, and you're always fighting against yourself. It's okay if you lose a battle sometimes. I have no doubt you'll win the war."

She smiled adoringly at him. Nick couldn't help thinking that if he could make her smile like that every day, that alone would make his life worthwhile.

"Maybe we're all a little too hard on ourselves," Judy whispered as a tear accumulated in the corner of her eye.

"Maybe we are," Nick agreed as he reached up to dab away the tear. "But regret can be a gift. It motivates us to be better."

Judy sighed fondly. "You know something I love about _you?_ " She touched his eyes to hers, eyes steadily locked on his. " _You_ motivate _me_ to be better."

Nick smirked as he suddenly felt as though his chest had spontaneously combusted. "You do that for me, too."

"But seriously," Judy continued with renewed enthusiasm. "Nick, you have such a beautiful heart. You're smart, you're fun, you're strong and determined, and you care _so much_ , even if you try to hide it—I…" She trailed off as her paw came up to smooth the fur on his cheek. "I've never met anyone like you."

It was only after allowing a pause to pass between them that Nick managed to swallow down the emotion in his throat enough to whisper, "Same to you, Carrots." Then he cleared his throat and pushed her head against his chest again, partially because he just wanted to hold her close and partially because looking at her right now felt overwhelming. "And just so you know, foxes don't cry, so if you notice any tears, just remember that they're figments of your imagination."

The bunny giggled. "Noted."

* * *

 _Day 12: Saturday, June 28_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:22 p.m._

* * *

"Green or brown?"

Judy grinned when Nick turned around to see her holding up two business-casual button-up shirts in his size, one a tasteful olive green and the other a rich, chocolatey brown. She was relieved that Bunnyburrow's biggest department store carried a selection of clothes for foxes—and even more grateful to be away from her parents' house. Although she and Nick spent the entire day together on the farm with no sign whatsoever of harm befalling Judy, her parents' suspicion of the fox was still suffocating. Today, they had agreed that Judy would show Nick her hometown, and this was their first stop.

Her reference to his old mysterious manner of having Judy choose what places to have him show her in Zootopia made Nick chuckle. Then he quirked a brow at her, gesturing questioningly toward his typical outfit. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"

"Answer the question," Judy insisted, wiggling the hangers so that the shirts flapped back and forth. "Green or brown?"

Nick dramatically stroked his chin in thought, though his eyes didn't study the shirts. Instead, they slowly swept Judy's figure from her feet to her ears. He smirked in that mischievous way that always seemed to set fire to her blood.

"How about gray and violet?" he said warmly.

Before Judy could think around her blush enough to answer, a bubbly voice called out behind her, "Oh, Judy! I didn't even realize you were home!"

Her shoulders stiffened, and Nick tilted his head curiously at her as she turned toward a pretty, dark-furred, blue-eyed female bunny bounding toward her.

"Connie!" she greeted with as much geniality as she could muster. "Good to see you!"

"And you!" Connie laughed, pulling Judy toward her in a light hug as she smooched the air beside both her cheeks. "You look as lovely as ever! But I didn't expect to see you back so soon." She leaned forward, her brows tented with exaggerated concern. "Did things not work out with becoming a cop?"

 _Not wasting any time, are you?_ Judy momentarily clenched her fists but kept a smile on her face. "Nope. Not yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Connie said, her lips pursed sympathetically. "We all knew it would be rough, but it's really great that you're back. I'm sure your parents would love to have your help around the farm."

There were some words Judy could say that would constitute an appropriate response, but she couldn't find them right then. Instead, she simply nodded.

Finally, Connie glanced behind Judy and blinked surprise when she saw Nick. Her eyes rapidly scanned him from head to toe, a lopsided smile frozen on her face. "And I… I see you brought a… fox with you."

"Yes," Judy affirmed, hooking her paw around Nick's elbow. The contact relaxed her shoulders. "This is my…" She paused for a moment, pushing down a blush. "My friend. Nick."

"Pleasure," Connie said sweetly, nodding but refraining from extending a paw. She glanced back and forth between the pair, eyes comically wide above her awkward, uncertain smile, before she took a step backward. "Well, I'd better get going. It was really great to see you, Judy. Maybe we can get together sometime. I would love that!"

"Yeah," Judy replied as Connie walked away briskly. When the other bunny was out of earshot, she muttered under her breath, "I would _not_ love that."

Beside her, Nick quietly lifted his paw to brush hers, which still grasped his elbow. "Someone you don't like?"

Judy sighed and removed her paw, staring at the two shirts that she held. "Connie Cotton. She's nice, really," she admitted. "A lot of mammals around here are. They're just…"

"They don't believe in you," Nick finished for her. She could feel his eyes locked on her, though she wouldn't meet them with her own.

"They don't believe in anything they don't already know," she shrugged, busying herself with studying the fabric on the brown shirt. "And what they know is that bunnies can't be cops. Or anything, really, other than farmers or doctors or office workers or… waitresses." After a moment, she added quietly, "I don't want to be around these mammals again, Nick."

Right away, she felt his arm slide around her shoulder and press her close against him. She took a deep breath, relishing every tiny molecule of his scent, letting it soothe her frayed nerves.

"You have me this time," he assured her, resting his chin on the top of her head. They held each other in contented silence for a while before he murmured, "I'm sorry that I discouraged you at first, too. I know how that feels, and I shouldn't have done that to you."

"Well, like you said yesterday," Judy said, her arms gliding around his waist, "mammals can be a lot of things at once. It's okay."

She heard him huff affectionately. "The fact that you've been strong and determined in spite of all this opposition, though—that's really something. You should be proud of yourself for that." He squeezed her gently. "I know I am."

They remained in each other's arms for a peaceful eternity or so. Judy was sure that mammals around the store were probably staring at them, but it was difficult to care. She didn't look up.

Eventually, they agreed to move on with their day by heading back to the Judy's parents' house for a quick lunch. After Judy enthusiastically insisted on purchasing the shirts for Nick, they ambled out of the store. In an empty lot just down the street, a few kits had set up booths selling lemonade, cookies, and balloons—an ordinary thing to see around this time of year as they saved up for field trips and uniforms for sports or music groups for the upcoming school year. Any kit who was serious about their extracurricular activities wouldn't let a summer go by without trying to line their pockets.

As they passed the lot, Nick slowed to stop. Before Judy could inquire about it, he hurriedly asked her to wait right there for a second, then hurried toward the booths.

Paws in her pockets, Judy rocked back and forth on her heels, idly studying her surroundings. Most of the stores in the area were familiar, having been in business since before she was even born. But there were a few new ones. Like that gym—they were still getting all the equipment set up when she left for Zootopia. Good to know it was open now, just in case she wanted to try it out. There was also a quaint little shop that sold anything and everything related to tea. That one would probably do well around here. Next, Judy glanced across the street—and froze.

Before her stood a charming little brick building with a striped overhang across the front, underneath a sign reading, " _Gideon's Pie Hole_." Through the window, she could see none other than Gideon Grey carefully sliding a pie out of a display case and setting it on the service counter in front of an old bunny couple. He typed something into the cash register, accepted the couple's cash, and handed them the pie, with—with a _smile_ on his face? Is that what it was? Blinking in shock, Judy realized that she couldn't remember ever really seeing Gideon Grey smile before. Not genuinely. Not like that.

"Okay," Nick's voice abruptly broke into her thoughts, and she whirled to face him. "Ready to go?"

"Y-Yeah," she grinned, nodding at the cerulean balloon in his paw. "I see you're supporting our local entrepreneurs. How kind of you."

"I never pass up a good balloon," Nick replied, extending his elbow toward her. "Shall we, m'lady?"

"We shall," Judy giggled as she accepted it.

For most of their walk back to Judy's parents' house, they simply admired the scenery in comfortable silence. It didn't have the exciting hustle, bustle, lights, and sounds of Zootopia, but Judy had to admit that Bunnyburrow's overall sense of tranquility was something to be admired. It was impossible to take a step anywhere in this little town without having a view of gold or green or multicolored fields swaying gently in the breeze, rolling toward the horizon like an unmoving sea.

"Have you thought about what we'll do when we go back?" Nick suddenly asked after they turned onto a dirt road lined intermittently with ash trees—the last stretch before arriving at the house.

Judy let out a long, tired sigh and shrugged. "Yeah, but I haven't come up with any ideas besides continuing to do what we were doing, even though I'm not sure that's really the best course of action. Would we be more helpful if we tried a different approach? And with the ZPD _and_ the Den of Thieves after us, how much longer could we keep it up anyway?"

For a moment, Nick only nodded thoughtfully. Then he huffed amusedly and glanced down at her, playfully nudging her arm. "To think you've only been a vigilante for less than two weeks, and you've already made hundreds of dangerous sworn enemies. It took me at least a couple of years with the Den before I became that popular. Color me impressed, Fluff."

Laughing, Judy nudged him back. "You know, I actually worried that if you found out about me being Crossfire, I would lose any chances I might have had with you."

"Well, I worried about the same thing with you discovering I was the Hustler, in addition to being afraid that you'd get hurt," Nick replied. "But as it is, here's the truth."

He came to a gradual, leisurely stop, turning to face her and clasping her free paw in his. In his other paw, he held up the balloon. His lively green eyes stared steadfastly into hers.

"I love you as far as this balloon will go," he said. Without looking away from her, he released the balloon. After a moment, they both turned their heads to watch it float, pushed gently by the breeze—only to get stuck under the branches of an ash tree.

Immediately, Judy doubled over in peals of laughter while Nick slapped his own forehead, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Well, so much for being romantic," he sighed.

"Oh, what are you talking about?" Judy giggled. "That was _adorable_!"

The warm way that Nick smirked at her seemed to fill her up with sunlight. Smiling broadly, she jogged to the tree and hopped nimbly from branch to branch until she was close enough to the balloon to grab it. Carefully, she pulled it from the tangle of leaves and twigs that held it and jumped back to the ground.

She handed it to the fox with a coy smile. "How about we try it again?"

With that, she softly laid her lips against his as they both closed their eyes. Neither of them watched the balloon rise to the sky after she let go of it, but when they broke apart, it was nowhere to be found.

* * *

 _Day 13: Sunday, June 29_ _th_ _, 2016, 7:03 a.m._

* * *

"Nick?" a voice whispered. Paused. "Nick?"

Blearily, Nick let his eyes flutter open, and then he smiled with lazy affection at the violet eyes that blinked at him. He gently grabbed her arms and pulled her onto his bed with him, curling himself around her.

"Morning snuggles? Don't mind if I do," he mumbled sleepily as he closed his eyes and nuzzled her cheek.

Judy let out a single breathy chuckle, but when she replied, her tone was serious. "Nick, wake up. You need to see this."

The sound of a reporter's voice shattered the peaceful morning silence, even at low volume. Nick squinted at Judy's phone screen, which she held in the air above them.

" _A seldom-used bridge in the middle of Moore-Howard Field was destroyed a few hours ago,"_ the reporter, a zebra with noticeably long eyelashes, was saying into a microphone _. Nearby residents heard an explosion around three o'clock in the morning."_

The video cut to show images of the bridge where he always stayed between apartments, now reduced to rubble. Its stones were either charred and halved or entirely decimated into tiny pebbles, and the ground beneath it was cratered, the soil blackened. On a few of the stones that were left, Nick recognized hastily-drawn symbols of a few Thieves from the Den. Suddenly, he was feeling very awake.

" _The destruction is believed to have been caused by some of the few remaining members of the Den of Thieves, recently categorized as a domestic terrorist group,"_ the zebra reporter went on as the screen displayed the broken bridge from various angles. " _Although the ZPD conducted a raid on their headquarters on Thursday night and successfully arrested the majority of its members, a few of them escaped and are still at large. Their motive behind destroying this bridge is still unknown."_

It was enough. Judy paused the video and stared at Nick, who rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"They're getting desperate," he muttered. "I know they want to kill us, but I thought we'd still have a few days to get our bearings again before they'd actually start wrecking the city."

"Who knew that you used to stay there?" Judy asked quietly.

"Both Finnick and Duke knew," Nick admitted wearily. "Though between the two of them, Duke is more likely to sell me out."

Judy nervously nibbled her claws. "What about the apartment?"

For a moment, Nick just stared forlornly at the ceiling, thinking. "I don't know," he finally answered with pained honesty.

As he studied the corners and shelves of the room as though trying to find clarification in the walls, Judy continued scrolling through ZNN news articles.

"Hate crimes are still rising, too," she muttered. "Homes of both predators and prey vandalized. Fights in the streets. A protest turned into a riot the other day." She let her arm plop to the bed, joining Nick in staring blankly around the room. "What are we going to do, Nick?"

He had no answer for her. For several minutes, they simply lay close to each other under a crushing silence.

Until there was a knock at the door.

The fox and bunny exchanged puzzled glances. Then Nick tossed his covers to the side and moved off the bed, scratching the fur on the back of his neck as he opened the door.

Judy's parents stood on the other side of it, wringing their paws anxiously, their mouths partially agape as if they were already mid-sentence, even though they hadn't spoken yet. But they quickly glanced behind him and let their jaws drop when they spotted Judy on the bed.

" _Judy!_ " they both exclaimed in horrified unison.

Like a flash, Judy bolted out of the bed and hurried toward the door, shushing her parents.

"It's okay, it's okay," she assured them. "Nothing ha—"

"We were worried when we didn't find you in _your_ bed," Bonnie explained, half-concealing her mouth in shock as she scrutinized her daughter with wide eyes, "so we thought _he_ might know"—she gestured furiously at Nick without actually deigning to look at him—"and it turns out you were here _with_ him? What, _all night?!_ "

Judy huffed irritably, crossing her arms and shifting her weight onto one hip. " _No_ , not _all night_ , and it wouldn't be any of your business if I _had_."

At that, Bonnie pursed her lips and rapidly tapped her foot a few times, fists clenched. Stu glanced between them, embodying what Nick could only describe as nervous fury. Suddenly, Bonnie reached out and grabbed Judy's wrist.

"May we speak with you alone, Judy?" she asked, though she was already pulling her into the hallway.

A second later, Nick was standing alone on the other side of the door. He blinked. Then his ear twitched. He could hear their voices, heated and urgent, just a few feet away. It would be easy to make out their words if he tried hard enough. But that would be eavesdropping, right? An invasion of privacy?

He stood there, shifting slowly between his feet, telling himself to step back. He kept telling himself to step back. A few times, he told himself to step back. And then stepped _forward_ , pressed his ear against the door, and told himself that he should've just stepped back.

But soon, all his attention was engrossed in their conversation.

" _It's just that you've been spending so much time alone with him_ ," Bonnie was whisper-shouting. " _How are we supposed to know he's not going to hurt you?_ "

" _Because I know him, he's my best friend, and he's not that type of mammal!_ " Judy responded agitatedly. " _If he wanted to hurt me, he could've done it a thousand times by now!_ "

" _Look, your mom and I are just… concerned, Judy_ ," Stu joined in calmly yet firmly. " _I mean, we all know the Grey family, and they're foxes. You still have the scars that Gideon Grey gave you._ "

Nick's heart plummeted even as it abruptly picked up speed. _Foxes? Scars?_

" _Are we supposed to just assume that nothing will happen?"_ Stu was continuing. _"What if our daughter comes home with some part of her mauled again?_ "

That word pilfered Nick's breath. _Mauled?!_

" _The Greys are_ one _family! One!"_ Judy fired back, clearly impatient at this point. " _And you know what? Maybe the reason why they were so awful is because_ we _are all like_ this!" There was a long pause before she plowed on. " _I'm not kicking him out, and I'm not going to avoid him. You can either accept my choices or leave us alone._ "

Dazed, Nick actually _did_ take a step back this time, just to make room for Judy to burst through the door. When she looked up at him, her shoulders were stiff and square, and her face was flushed and scrunched with ire, which Nick would have thought was adorable at any other time. At the moment, though, he must have looked more distressed and lost than he realized. The second she saw him, she deflated, and her brows wrinkled with concern.

"Nick? What's wrong?"

"M… Mauled?" was all Nick could manage at first. Then he added, "By a fox?"

Understanding dawned on Judy's face. She closed the door, sighed heavily, and massaged her temples. "You were listening."

"Who's Gideon Grey?" Nick queried, his eyes now roving her body in search of scars.

Judy stared at him sadly for a moment before answering. "He's a fox who bullied me and other prey when we were kids. One day, when I was defending my friends from him…" She moved closer to him and pushed aside of the fur on her left cheek, revealing three long, clean claw marks. "He scratched me. Pretty deeply. Left a mark."

Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, heart shriveling, Nick stared. It explained so many things. So _many_ things.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

"Well, I… It…" Judy stuttered as she left the fur on her cheek fall back into place. "It seemed irrelevant."

" _Irrelevant_?" Nick repeated the word incredulously.

"Well, it doesn't excuse my actions," Judy clarified.

"It's _context!_ " Nick exclaimed. "I would've done so many things differently if you had told me about this!" He threw his paws in the air and began to pace back and forth. "I was pouring my heart out to you the other day about _my_ past, and you didn't think that _yours_ was worth sharing, too? Not even _then?_ "

"What would it have changed?" Judy asked as she anxiously watched him.

For a moment, Nick spluttered. "What did it change for me to tell _you_ about _my_ past?" He stopped and softly laid his paws on her shoulders. "It would've let me understand someone I love. That's why you wanted to know more about _me_ , right?"

The bunny only stared at him, lips parted dumbly.

"I think one of the most important things we've learned in the past couple of weeks," Nick went on softly as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, "is that we're a lot better when we're not keeping secrets from each other."

In response, Judy tilted her head upward to let their noses touch. Her arms lightly grasped his waist. "Okay," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry that I scared you when I was angry," Nick whispered. "And I'm sorry that I left you alone at the apartment rather than talking to you after the food drive."

"It's okay," Judy replied. "I'm sorry I didn't open up to you earlier."

For a while, she seemed as content as Nick was to simply hold each other closely like that. But then he pulled back and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Now," he said, "is there any way to meet this Gideon Grey?"

Judy laughed briefly. "Actually, um…" She scratched the back of her head and glanced away for a moment. "I noticed that he's opened a pastry shop."

* * *

 _Day 13: Sunday, June 29_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:10 a.m._

* * *

While it was a relief to finally be away from her parents' house after spending all morning avoiding them and her siblings out in the fields, Judy almost thought it was preferable compared to standing in her childhood bully's place of business. It was a quaint little shop, floored with black-and-white checkered tile and furnished with pristine white tables and chairs backed with bars that looked like mini picket fences. The pastel pink walls were decorated with still-life paintings of fruit and pastries, as well as a couple landscapes of berry fields. Everything about the shop seemed so muted, soft, and classy that it was difficult to imagine it belonged to the loud, harsh, and ill-mannered fox she remembered. Part of her was convinced it was a trap.

But Nick was holding her paw, so things would be okay.

Together, they approached the counter and rang the service bell. After a moment, the portly figure of Gideon Grey came shuffling out of the back room, wiping his paws on a rag.

When her eyes met his, he halted in his tracks. "J-Judy," he said.

For a moment, all Judy did was tilt her head as she studied him. When they were kids, he used to _ooze_ danger and anger, or so it had seemed to her. But here, now, with his frilly pink apron, befuddled expression, and clothes powdered with flour and sugar, there wasn't a single threatening thing about him.

"Gideon Grey," she murmured with a smirk. "I'll be darned."

"H-Hey, Judy," Gideon stammered as he approached the counter, wringing his paws. "Th-thanks for comin', but before you order anythin', I-I just wanted to apologize for the way that I behaved in my youth. I-I had a lot of self-doubt, an' it manifested itself in unchecked rage an' aggression." His shoulders sagged as he cast her a sorrowful frown. "I was a _major_ jerk."

Judy blinked and exchanged surprised glances with Nick. Then she shrugged and smiled warmly at the bigger fox.

"Well, I know a thing or two about being a jerk," she said kindly.

The relief in Gideon's answering smile seemed to lift years of weight off her shoulders—and his. She smiled wider.

"So," she said, clapping her paws together, "we thought we should give one of your pies a try. Any that you would recommend?"

"W-Well, I'm just finishin' up some berry pies, so those are fresh, if you wanna wait a couple minutes," Gideon replied, hooking his thumb in the direction of the back room. From her vantage point, Judy could barely see part of an industrial oven.

"Blueberry?" she inquired sweetly, smirking when she saw Nick grin from the corner of her eye.

"Blueberry, yeah," Gideon nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I got that. Couple o' minutes, okay?"

Judy nodded, handed him enough cash for both the pie and a tip, and skipped toward a small table for two, leading Nick by the paw.

"Wow," she whispered to Nick. "It's amazing to see how much one mammal can change. He's _nothing_ like what I remember."

"Remarkable," Nick agreed.

"Gives me hope for the rest of the world," Judy added brightly.

Her fox companion smiled at her thoughtfully. "I guess you're right." Then he sighed melodramatically. "And here, I had been hoping for an epic throw-down. I wanted to avenge my bunny, but how am I supposed to do that when he turned himself around and became a decent mammal? So disappointing."

But Judy's nose was already twitching at the sound of another word. " _Your_ bunny?"

Immediately, the fox stiffened. His gaze wandered around the table and out the shop window, apparently unable to meet hers. "Uh… I mean…" he mumbled. "It's just that I—"

"I think it's an accurate description," Judy interrupted as she leaned forward and cradled her chin in her intertwined fingers.

 _That_ brought Nick's eyes back to her, as well as his smile—small, shy, and pleased.

"Guess that makes me your fox, then," he said.

"I guess it does," Judy grinned.

True to his word, Gideon soon arrived at their table with a hot blueberry pie sprinkled with sugar, along with two small plates and forks. He stepped back and anxiously tapped the tips of his fingers together as they each carefully laid slices of the pie onto their plates. Clinking their forks together in a mock toast, they tried their bites simultaneously.

They also widened their eyes simultaneously.

They smiled simultaneously and eagerly took their next bites simultaneously.

"Gideon," Judy spoke around the flawlessly soft and flaky butter crust and impeccably sweetened, juicy blueberries dazzling her tongue at that moment, "this is absolutely _incredible!_ "

The rotund fox grinned timidly. "Y-You really think so, Judy?"

"Sweet cheese and crackers," Judy muttered, too busy shoveling another piece into her mouth to answer directly. Nick merely gave the baker a thumbs up with one paw while cutting himself a new slice with the other.

Gideon pulled a chair from another table to sit close to the table. "I-I actually bought the berries from your family's farm," he said. "A-An' I was wondering if you think they might be willin' to strike a business deal with me."

"Business deal?" Judy parroted, lifting another forkful of pie from her plate.

"Y-Yeah," Gideon nodded. "Your family grows the best produce by far, an' I thought maybe we could help each other out."

Judy hummed in thought as she swallowed. "I'll mention it to them. See if I can get them to be open to it."

"Aww, thanks, Judy," Gideon grinned. "Plus, you know, th-they're one o' the only farmin' families here that use Night Howlers to protect their crops, an' that kind o' security is nice. It's the best natural pest control out there."

"Night Howlers?" Judy cocked her head at the term. When she glanced at Nick, she saw him frozen, the fork halfway between his mouth and the table. She furrowed her brows at him for a moment before refocusing her attention on Gideon.

"Y-Yeah, that's what my family always called 'em," he was explaining. "I think the scientific term is _midnicampum holicithias_ , but that's a mouthful if I ever heard one."

"Oh, those," Judy waved her fork dismissively. "Yeah, I know about those. I didn't realize they were such premium pest—"

"Night Howlers, you said?" Nick interjected, looking at both of them with wide eyes. "What are they, exactly?"

"Um," Judy blinked at him. "Flowers. These really pretty blue flowers."

Nick stared at her. Then he stared at Gideon. Then he stared at her again. "Why are they called Night Howlers?"

"Actually, I… don't know. I've never heard that term before now," Judy said, tapping her lip with one finger and turning to Gideon. "Do you know why?"

"W-Well, my understandin' is that they can make you go crazy if you ingest 'em," the baker shrugged. "Like, attackin' other mammals. Ancient mammals that had just gotten sentient used to eat 'em as some kind o' religious night ritual to stay in touch with their original roots, so they called 'em Night Howlers, or that's what my family always told me. Guess it ain't common knowledge, though."

Suddenly, Nick was rising from his chair so quickly that he knocked it over backwards. " _I've_ heard of Night Howlers before," he said, motioning at Judy to take his paw, to which she hesitantly acquiesced. "And we need to go, Carrots."

Then he was pulling her up and toward the door. Abruptly, however, he pivoted, released her paw, rushed back to the table, and snatched up the pie.

"But not without this," he said, casting Gideon a casual salute. "Best of luck to you and your truly unparalleled talent, sir, but my friend and I have to go make the world a better place now. Thank you for the pie."

With that, he dashed back toward Judy, retrieved her paw, and hurriedly led her out the door.

* * *

 **A/N: Truly, it's amazing what childhood experiences can affect us for the rest of our lives.**

 **Also, "Pie Hole" is definitely a nod toward the short-lived TV show known as** _ **Pushing Daisies**_ **. I will forever be upset that we didn't get to find out how that story was supposed to end.**

 **And I think the Moore-Howard reference is pretty obvious.**

 **Again, I'm very sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I don't have as many extra things crammed into my schedule this week,** _ **and**_ **I have a working computer, so the next chapter should be posted by the end of the weekend. :)**


	16. I've Played This Game Before

**Chapter 16—I've Played This Game Before**

 **A/N: The alternate title for this chapter is "The Tale of Sweet Cheese and Crackers." Once again, it turned out longer than I anticipated, and I actually considered breaking it into two chapters, but I think I'm satisfied with how it turned out.**

 **Also, just as a reminder (because it's been a while), Nick's mom's birthday was briefly mentioned in chapter nine.**

 **Thank you** _ **so much**_ **to** _ **everyone**_ **for your sweet, thoughtful, encouraging, and patient reviews. My heart warms every time I read them. :)**

 **My deepest and most eternal thanks once again to Libious and Camoss for reviewing this chapter and making sure it made sense.**

* * *

 _Day 14: Monday, June 30_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:00 a.m._

* * *

The train was nothing if not precisely punctual. It approached the Bunnyburrow station at exactly 9:00 a.m. like a regal bullet, Nick and Judy nearly on tiptoe as they waited impatiently on the platform. The trains retired early on Sundays, and her parents were getting their truck fixed, so they hadn't had a chance to leave Bunnyburrow until now. They had whiled away the torturous hours in Judy's bedroom, mostly researching _midnicampum holicithias_ when they weren't cuddling together on the bed, deep in quiet thought or discussion about what awaited them in Zootopia. By now, they were ready to drive the train to Bunnyburrow themselves if necessary, though Judy had a strange feeling that she probably shouldn't.

As the train glided to a graceful stop without a single screech on the tracks, the fox and bunny watched intently for the doors to open. When they did, Nick hefted his duffel bag and hurried toward them, but Judy was held back by her mother's paw around her wrist.

She whirled around to face her parents, her stern, agitated expression meeting their anxious ones. "Are we going to have this conversation again?"

"Judy," Bonnie whispered pleadingly. Beside her, Stu's eyes were gathering moisture.

"Nick and I are going back to Zootopia," Judy said firmly. "We have things we need to do."

Stu placed a gentle paw on her shoulder. "We understand that you trust him," Stu said. "But we can't just... Well, we barely know him, Jude, and he's..."

"He's a fox," Judy finished for him. She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. "Listen. I get that you're scared for me because you love me. I love you, too. But even if you can't trust Nick, I need you to trust _me_." Her parents briefly glanced away from her steady gaze. "If you're still worried about him being a fox, try getting to know Gideon now. I went to his pie shop yesterday, and he's not the same fox you knew. Actually," she pointed at both of them in turn, "he wanted to know if you'd be interested in arranging a business deal with him. Give him a chance. Then maybe you can give Nick a chance, too."

With that, she gently removed her arm from Bonnie's grasp. When she pivoted to rush toward the train, she smiled to see that Nick had stopped to wait for her. He held his paw toward her, and she accepted it as they boarded the train.

They soon found an empty car and settled themselves in it. Judy was actually rather grateful for the strange looks thrown their way by most of the other passengers, as it meant that they would probably get to enjoy some privacy. Some rules from high school remain in force well into adulthood, and one of them is this: No one wants to sit with the weirdos.

Judy resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at a few of the mammals who were decidedly unsubtle in displaying their consternation or disgust as they passed the glass windows of the car. Instead, she snuggled up to her fox.

"So you know where to find Duke, right?" she asked.

"I know where his apartment is," Nick replied. "I don't know when he's normally there, though. He doesn't really have a steady job—just a lot of gigs. For all we know, he might be making a flower delivery today."

Judy nodded thoughtfully. Shortly after leaving the Pie Hole yesterday, Nick explained to Judy why he'd suddenly insisted that they leave. Apparently, Mr. Big's chaffeur, a jaguar called Renato Manchas, had been driving Mr. Otterton to the mansion when the otter's behavior abruptly turned savage. Shortly before that, Otterton had been shouting desperately at Manchas about Night Howlers, but neither Manchas nor anyone else in the Den of Thieves knew what that meant. Nothing substantial really came up on a Zoogle search, either, though Nick and Judy had found plenty of information on _midnicampum holicithias_. When Judy had wondered aloud why Otterton hadn't used the scientific name instead of the obscure colloquial one, Nick had told her to try to imagine knowing she had seconds of sanity left before descending into madness and trying to scream such a long, multisyllable term to someone who wasn't an expert in botany or plant husbandry and would definitely not remember it. She'd had to concede the point. Then they'd had a contest over who could yell " _midnicampum holicithias"_ the fastest. Judy won, of course. Her farmer's pride wouldn't let her do otherwise.

Now they were heading back to Zootopia because Nick had made a tenuous connection between the Night Howlers and his old teammate, Duke, who had mentioned having a lot of flower delivery jobs lately. It wasn't a strong lead, but it was a lead.

They passed most of the three-hour train ride in comfortable silence, cuddling on the seat while watching the landscape tumble along. When the train pulled into the main Zootopia station, they agreed to check on their apartment before finding Duke. To their relief, the complex was unharmed.

"I still wouldn't be too optimistic, though," Nick sighed as they crossed the lobby and climbed the stairs to the floor with their apartment. "If they went after the bridge, then the only reason they didn't attack the complex as well is because they knew I wouldn't be here. Someone told them I'd moved out." He cast her a sober glance. "Thank whatever gods may exist that they haven't figured out who you are yet. Otherwise, we might have come home to a pile of rubble."

Shuddering, Judy nodded and followed Nick through the apartment's threshold. Nick unceremoniously threw the duffel bag onto the couch before unzipping it and withdrawing their costumes. He tossed hers to her, and when she caught it, she paused and stared at him, a slow grin creeping across her face.

Nick furrowed his brows at her as he straightened a sleeve on his suit that was turned inside-out. "What's with that look?"

Judy clutched her suit and squashed it against her grin, swaying side to side. "This is the first time we've changed into our alter egos in each other's presence."

At that, Nick huffed amusedly. "And?"

"Well, it's just a special moment to me," Judy replied. "It's like some symbolic culmination of all we've been through, you know? Like, we're to the point now where we trust each other completely, and this is the ultimate way of showing it."

The fox shook his head and smiled fondly at her. "Just get dressed. We have a city to save."

"Just let me cherish the moment, okay?" Judy insisted. Then she tilted her head at him, smirking mischievously. "In fact, you should definitely start taking off your shirt now. That will help me cherish it even more."

Nick laughed and looked away, though Judy caught a very satisfying flush beneath his fur. "And I thought _I_ would be the first one to start making inappropriate jokes," he quipped.

"Well, you were too slow," Judy shrugged. Bundling up her outfit in her arms, she strode toward her bedroom. "But actually, since this relationship of ours is still new, I'm going to get dressed in here. See you in a minute."

She heard Nick hum his acknowledgement behind her before closing the bedroom door. Quickly, she dressed in her black outfit, slipped her mask over her head, and studied herself in her full-length mirror. Somehow, she looked different to herself. For once, she felt truly comfortable as Crossfire.

Maybe the meaning of "making the world a better place" was simply becoming clearer to her now.

When she opened the door to the bedroom, Nick was adjusting his mask and donning the metal box that would electronically alter his voice. They acknowledged each other with nods before Nick sauntered into the bedroom and pulled the window up. He stuck his head outside and studied the ground below. Judy could see the hesitation in his posture, but he soon took a deep breath, then jumped down. She heard the sound of his roll across the pavement and tried not to giggle at the curse he muttered under his breath.

Then it was her turn. Once she made the familiar leap to the ground, she followed him through shadowed alleyways and then across a long, high-ledged rooftop until they were overlooking a grungy apartment complex on the other side of Sahara Square. There, Nick motioned Judy toward a tall ash tree close to the building. She watched him carefully jump from the rooftop to the thickest tree branch they could reach. After steadying himself and leaning against the trunk to make room for her, he beckoned Judy to come as well. She nodded and made the leap easily.

From there, Nick cautiously led her in navigating the branches until they were on the other side of the tree and directly outside an apartment window. It was just near enough to the branch on which they now stood that Nick was able to reach out and slide it open. He hurried inside, and Judy was right behind him.

They immediately closed the window once their feet were on the floor of what was clearly a bedroom that belonged to someone who either didn't care about cleanliness or enjoyed constantly testing their immune system. Judy wrinkled her nose at the smell of moldy food and unwashed sheets, as well as the sight of a floor half-covered in dirty clothes, crumpled bills, and empty takeout boxes.

After taking in her surroundings, she stared up at Nick. He stared back. Judy noticed the way Nick's eyes crinkled behind his mask, indicating he was grinning. She responded in kind.

And then they heard Duke's yelp of distressed surprise as he came out of the bathroom and spotted them.

With a swiftness that even Judy appreciated as a bunny, Duke pivoted and scrambled for the door. But she was quicker. Before he could get very far, she yanked him back by his arm, glanced around rapidly, and positioned both his wrists on a bedpost knob. Nick, apparently anticipating this, was already whipping a rope out of a pocket in his utility belt and tying Duke's wrists to the post.

"Hey, hey, what're you doin'?! Leave me alone! I ain't done nothin'!" Duke was shouting throughout this ordeal.

"Well, you've done nothing to make sure your apartment doesn't become a biohazard, that's for sure," Nick scoffed.

Judy ignored both of them, opting to scrutinize the room again instead. This time, she was looking for something in particular. When she didn't find them in the immediate vicinity, she held up a finger to Nick, wandered into the living room and kitchen,

and raised a triumphant fist in the air when she saw a plastic bag full of what she wanted in the sink.

She brought the bag into the bedroom and displayed its contents to Nick, who leaned to peer into it.

"Moldy onions?" he said, quirking a brow at her.

"No," Judy shook her head. " _Midnicampum holicithias."_

"I thought you said they were flowers."

"These are the bulbs."

"Ah."

Then they both turned their attention to Duke, who hunched his shoulders and widened his twitching eyes.

"Hustler," he said desperately, "I swear I didn't do nothin'. I didn't tell 'em about the bridge."

"We're past that now, Bootleg," Nick said, rubbing his paws together. "Just wanted to ask you about these flowers."

Duke narrowed his eyes. "What about 'em?"

"Who's been paying you for them?" Judy demanded, crossing her arms.

"What, you think I'm gonna tell my secrets to _two_ enemies o' the Den?" Duke snorted. "I'm not sayin' nothin', and you can't make me."

Judy glared and waved the bag in front of him. "Do you know what these are?"

"Oh, _no_ ," Duke said with ear-grating sarcasm. "Tell me you ain't gonna make me smell _flowers!_ Please have mercy on a poor little weasel."

Taking a deep, calming breath, Judy went on. "The scientific name for these flowers is _midnicampum holicithias,_ but you've probably heard them called Night Howlers."

At that, Duke's eyes shot wide open.

"Why do you think Otterton was yelling about Night Howlers right before he went savage?" Judy asked. She removed a bulb from the bag, holding it in her palm. "We have reason to believe that these flowers are somehow being used to cause savagery in predators. So you're going to tell us who's been paying you for them"—she paused to thrust the bulb under his nose—"or you'll be the next predator to go savage. Hope you like muzzles."

She clamped her mouth shut and cursed at herself for that last comment, but when she glanced anxiously at Nick, he only nodded at her.

"You wouldn't," Duke said, nervously eyeing the bulb.

Abruptly, Judy grabbed a leaf off the bulb. Although she doubted it would actually have any effect, since the toxin would probably be in the blossom, it was unlikely that Duke would know that. She plugged his nose, forcing his mouth open, and let the leaf hover over his tongue.

"Test me again," she whispered fiercely, glaring steadily. "I dare you."

Duke stared at her with bugged eyes, then wrestled his nose away from her grasp. "Fine, _fine!_ It's a ram named Doug. I don't know his last name."

"Where does he live?" Nick asked, stepping closer to the weasel. He certainly wasn't tall by most mammals' standards, but at this proximity to the small weasel, he loomed intimidatingly—especially when he folded his arms over his chest like that.

"I don't know that, either," Duke answered, shrinking away. "He always has me drop them off at his lab in an old train station that nobody uses anymore."

"Be more specific."

"What do you mean?"

"The name of the station, Bootleg."

"Uh... Uh... B-Banyan Street. The old one, er—you know, the abandoned one, not the new one."

"Describe the lab."

"I don't _know!_ I've never been inside it!"

"Describe the outside."

"Some run-down, useless train car. Just sits there on the tracks."

Nick glanced at Judy, who nodded at him. In unison, they turned and left the way they came—through the window, into the tree, and then onto the rooftop on the other side. Neither of them paid any attention to Duke's indignant demands to be set free.

With his superior understanding of the city layout, Judy again let Nick lead the way, both of them continuing to keep to the shadows as much as possible. It took about twenty minutes, but they finally crept up to the edge of a dark alleyway that let them see a pale green train station entrance sitting in the middle of a deserted platform like a lone, weathered beacon. Above it was a sign reading " _Banyan Street Station_ ," though the entrance was closed off with a rickety iron gate holding another sign that warned, " _STATION CLOSED."_ Fortunately, there was a small hole on the bottom, just big enough to accommodate a fox and a bunny.

After taking a minute to catch their breath—and make sure nobody was watching—Judy and Nick sped toward the entrance and slid through the hole in the gate. Down the dusty stairs they went, finding themselves in a station riddled with debris and half-broken machinery. Immediately, the lab that Duke had described was visible in the dim light, looking just as useless as he'd said.

They hurried toward it and tiptoed around its perimeter. Judy motioned toward a partially open window. With a nod, Nick stacked a couple of nearby crates on top of each other. Judy climbed on top of them. After peering through the window and determining that no one was inside, she pushed it fully open and scrambled through. Nick soon followed.

Slowly and silently, they crept along the floor, and only then did Judy absorb what surrounded them—rows and rows of Night Howlers growing under lights that cast a purplish hue on the walls. In the middle of the garden beds was a barrel filled with a warm blue liquid that emitted a strange scent that Judy's instincts found both enticing and terrifying.

Next to a wall farther into the room was a work bench littered with various tools, jars, and vials, as well as a padded box filled with small blue pellets. Above the work bench was mounted a bulletin board supporting a map of Zootopia and the photographs of a couple dozen smiling predators. Otterton and Randol were among them.

For a moment, Judy simply stared at the map, pressing her paw to her lips and shaking her head. "Just _look_ at this, Nick," she whispered.

"Don't know what you're so shocked about," the fox replied sardonically as his gaze continued to flick around the train car. "There's nothing suspicious at all about a creepy underground garden of flowers known to induce violent insanity, along with a barrel of ominous liquid resembling the color of the flowers, right next to what is clearly a visual hit list."

Judy quirked a brow at him before moving toward a door on the other side of the car to peek through its window. It was an empty control room. She was about to turn away, but then she paused.

"Carrots?" Nick called hesitantly, voice low.

"Don't worry, no one's in here," she assured him. "But I think I see something."

She pushed the door open and padded inside, Nick close behind her. Next to a trio of gauges on the right side of the control panel was a yellow sticky note with what appeared to be a phone number.

Nick drew his cell phone from his pocket and typed the number into Zoogle as Judy watched. They both gasped when the search turned up a link to the directory page of the city hall's official website, showing that the phone number matched that of a mammal they both recognized.

Mayor Dawn Bellwether.

Before either of them could say anything, Judy's ear twitched when it picked up the click of the front door of the car. She silently dropped to her stomach and frantically motioned for Nick to do the same. They stared wide-eyed at each other as they listened to heavy footsteps lumbering around the car. After waiting for her heart rate to calm down a little, Judy army-crawled toward the door and peeked cautiously around the frame.

The ram that she saw was both tall and very round. Wearing a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, he stood at the work bench and loaded a dart gun with some of the blue pellets she had seen earlier. When she dared to stick her head out a tad farther, she caught sight of two additional rams, both of similar builds and dressed casually, looking idly around at the flowers.

"Seriously, why do you _always_ forget the extra foam?" the ram at the work bench queried tiredly as he paused in his task to gently stir the contents of a paper coffee cup.

"Well, cry us a freaking river, Doug," one of the other rams snidely responded. "Some of us have got _real_ problems."

 _Doug!_

Judy stared intently at the ram with the gun, trying to memorize his features while listening to the conversation.

"If you don't want it, I'll drink it," said the third ram.

Doug slurped pointedly from the cup. "I'm supposed to dart a bear tonight. I need all the caffeine I can get."

"She's having you dart a lot more often lately," one of the other rams observed.

"Yeah," Doug shrugged as he finished loading the dart gun and then held it up to examine it. "I think she's getting ready for the next phase."

Nick had joined Judy by the door. He nudged her and then jerked a thumb toward one of the window panes above the control panel. Judy shook her head vigorously, gesturing instead toward the rams before making a meaningful punching motion. Then another one, just for good measure. Narrowing his eyes at her, Nick pointed firmly at the gun in Doug's hoof.

For a moment, Judy was tempted to shrug and charge the three rams herself. Instead, she hung her head in frustrated defeat and nodded; with a dart gun trained on them in such short proximity, the chances that they would leave here without going savage were slim to none.

Patting her shoulder, Nick faced the window, shifted into a crouch, and leapt toward it, knocking it open and landing semi-safely on the ground, if his "oof" was any indication.

Judy only had a second to follow suit before the three rams came barging inside in response to the noise. She cleared the window just as one of the rams exclaimed, "Shoot 'em! _Shoot 'em!"_

"I need the pellets for the preds, idiot!" she heard Doug counter. "Run after them!"

Fortunately, the rams were not willing to test whether they could squeeze their rotund bodies through the window. By the time they had exited the main door to the train car and then sprinted around to the conductor's side, the fox and bunny were gone.

* * *

 _Day 14: Monday, June 30_ _th_ _, 2016, 3:15 p.m._

* * *

"It... It just seems insane. Absolutely insane," Judy said as she moved closer to Nick. They'd retreated to another empty rooftop, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and staring up at the clouds interspersed throughout the sky as they pondered their next move. "Shooting predators with a Night Howler serum to force them into going savage? And could Mayor Bellwether _actually_ have something to do with it?"

Nick shrugged. "Wouldn't be the craziest thing that's ever happened."

"I guess not, but..." Judy shook her head, and Nick slid his arm around her shoulders as she continued. "I mean, Mayor Bellwether supported me while I was Crossfire, and she seemed so _nice_." She paused. "Well, up until the end of our friendship, I guess."

"What happened?"

"She got angry that I wouldn't turn over evidence that would have let the ZPD raid the Den of Thieves," Judy explained, glancing up at him.

Blinking, Nick tilted his head at her. "You had evidence?"

The bunny nodded. "The carrot pen. I had it with me at the meeting where you presented your idea about helping the families of the missing predators. I caught a lot of incriminating things." She chuckled, adding slyly, "Remember when I recorded your snoring? That was so I could _destroy_ the evidence."

At that, Nick couldn't help but laugh. "Of course. I should have known." He looked down at her. "Why did you change your mind?"

Judy sighed. "I thought that most of the Thieves were probably just desperate mammals who deserved a chance for redemption before you were all locked up." Then she nestled her head on his shoulder. "And I especially didn't want to see _you_ go to jail."

For a moment, Nick couldn't conjure any words around the way his throat tightened. If only they weren't wearing masks. He was itching to kiss her forehead right then.

"You cared that much about me even as the Hustler, huh?" he said quietly.

"Yes," Judy replied without hesitation.

A small, grateful smile crossed Nick's lips as he set his cheek on the top of Judy's head. Although it had been a few days since he and Judy had made up and admitted their feelings for each other, he was still getting accustomed to the sensation of being so important to someone.

But he reminded himself that they had more pressing matters in front of them. How would they—

A vibration in his pocket cut into his thoughts. He fished out his cell phone and saw a message waiting from his mother. Then he groaned, slapping his forehead.

"What is it?" Judy queried, glancing at the phone and reading the name of the contact. "Your mom?"

Nick sighed. "I forgot that I set up a dinner date with my mom for her birthday. She's just confirming that it's still okay." His thumb hovered uncertainly over the reply box. "Maybe I'll just tell her that we should postpone it."

"You don't have to," Judy said. "We haven't even figured out what to do next. I'm sure your mom would love to see you. Besides, it's her birthday."

Slowly, thoughtfully, Nick typed out a response to the text. Then he paused.

"Would you like to meet her?" he asked.

* * *

 _Day 14: Monday, June 30_ _th_ _, 2016, 4:59 p.m._

* * *

"I'm so happy to meet you!" Marian exclaimed with a grin as she pulled Judy into a hug. "I never get to meet Nicky's friends!"

"It's wonderful to meet you, too!" Judy said as she hugged the vixen in return, hoping she sounded cheery enough to conceal her anxiety. After all, she was only meeting her fox's mother just a few days after they both confessed their love for each other. No big deal.

"Mom," Nick sighed, and Judy pulled away from her just in time to see him roll his eyes. " _Nicky?"_

"Sticky Nicky!" Marian said, winking at Judy. "That should tell you _plenty_ about what he was like as a child."

"I call him Slick sometimes," Judy replied conspiratorially as the vixen nodded her approval.

Nick glanced between them with a frown. "On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea."

"I think Sticky Nicky just needs to settle down and accept his fate," Judy smiled, patting his arm.

"Sure thing, Jude the Dude," Nick shot back with a smirk.

For a moment, Judy pursed her lips. Then she gave him a firm nod. "Okay, that's a fair exchange."

The three of them slid into a booth—Judy and Nick on one side, Marian on the other—of the Asian restaurant where they'd agreed to meet. Apparently, both Nick and Marian were big fans of Asian cuisine, and Judy was happy to become more experienced with it—especially since she'd been promised the most amazing stir fry of her life.

"So tell me," Marian said as she opened her menu, "how did you two meet?"

The fox and bunny exchanged stiff smiles. Somehow, they hadn't thought to prepare for this question.

"We, uh... We started working together at a restaurant," Nick answered. "Basic Instinct. You've heard of it, right?"

"I've seen it in passing," Marian replied. "Maybe I'll actually have to give it a try."

"Nick is a really great cook, the best one there," Judy asserted, partially because she relished the chance to brag about her fox and make him blush, and partially because she didn't want the conversation to steer anywhere close to their living arrangements. She grinned and nudged him lightly. "Almost every single one of my tables asks me to give him their compliments, and he always impresses the other cooks with his tricks."

Although the fox tried to hide it by squishing his cheek against his palm, she could tell he was smiling. "Well, Carrots, you're sitting across from the mammal who taught me everything I know."

"Really?" Judy smiled at Marian, who nodded with a warm smile. "Are you a cook, too?"

"No, I've mostly worked low-end retail jobs," Marian explained with a shake of her head. "But... Well, I don't know if Nicky has told you, but his father died when he was little." At Judy's solemn nod, she continued. "With only my income to support us, we were too poor to do many fun things together. But we always needed to eat, so... Cooking together just became our fun thing."

For a moment, Judy was breathless with surprise. She glanced at Nick, who was smirking fondly at his mother, and then back at the vixen, who was busying herself with reading the menu now. Somehow, it had never occurred to Judy that Nick's talent and love for cooking had a story behind it.

She was about to comment further when she noticed a fluff of white curls bobbing just above the wall extending from the entrance of the restaurant, designed to lead customers straight to the main desk so that they could be seated by a hostess. The fluff rounded the wall, led by a pangolin in a waitress's uniform, and revealed itself as belonging to the one and only Mayor Dawn Bellwether.

The sheep trotted by their table without even looking at them, nodding politely at the pangolin when she gestured to a booth across the floor from where Nick and Judy sat. Trying not to stare too obviously, Judy nudged Nick a little harder than she intended. He shot her an incredulous glance while rubbing his arm, but his eyes immediately widened when they followed Judy's head-jerk in the mayor's direction.

Maintaining carefully blank expressions on their faces, they forced themselves to focus on studying their menus. When their red panda waiter came by, they each ordered quickly. As they waited for their food to arrive, they continued looking furtively and casually in Bellwether's direction from time to time while holding their end of the conversation with Marian. Yes, Judy was from Bunnyburrow and was enjoying her time in Zootopia, and Bellwether was now sipping from a glass of water. Oh, yes, three hundred is a lot of siblings, and Judy had no idea how she managed having so many, and Bellwether ordered her food and handed the menu back to her waitress. Absolutely, retail jobs can be soul-sucking, we definitely hope you can find something better soon, why not try cooking yourself, bet you could move up easier in the restaurant business, and Bellwether was texting on her phone with reddened cheeks and an agitatedly pursed mouth.

Their food arrived. If Judy had been more mentally present, she would have commented that the stir fry was definitely worth a lifetime of waiting to try. Nick stuffed his face full of bug-meat gyoza. Marian was visibly pleased with her bowl of spicy ramen, but a few droplets of broth managed to splash on her lovely blouse. She excused herself from the table to clean up when she was done—which was fortunate timing, because Bellwether seemed to be ending her meal early, scowling as she transferred her half-eaten food into a to-go box that the waitress had brought her.

Immediately, Judy whipped around to face Nick. "We need to do something."

"Hold on," Nick murmured urgently. "You realize that talking to her here isn't going to do any good, right?"

"Of course," Judy replied matter-of-factly. "That's why I'm going to kidnap her."

"You're... _what?!"_ Nick exclaimed in a loud whisper.

But Judy was already raising her arm to catch their waiter's attention. "Excuse me! Excuse me. Yes, we'd like our check, please." When the red panda acquiesced, she took out her wallet and slapped her a generously large dollar bill on the table. Then she slid out from the booth and turned to face Nick again. "You coming?"

For a moment, Nick only stared at Judy's straight face. When his mother returned to the table a moment later, though, he scooted out of his seat as well, bestowing another affectionate smile upon her.

"Well, Mom, it was absolutely wonderful to see you," he said smoothly, "but Judy and I need to get going." He drew a small, black velvet box from his pocket and handed it to her. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, Nicky," Marian breathed as she accepted the box and opened it to find a glittering silver necklace chain attached to a modest jade pendant. "This is so sweet. You really—" She abruptly stopped and shook her head at herself, smiling fondly at her son. "Thank you very much."

Judy's heart sang when Nick bent to kiss his mother's cheek. There was nothing quite like watching a male treat his mother with love.

But as much as she wanted to cherish the moment, Bellwether was already striding out of the restaurant at a brisk pace, so she gently tugged Nick's arm.

"This was so lovely. We should definitely do it again sometime," she said to Marian as she and Nick slowly started stepping toward the exit. "Thank you so much for agreeing to meet."

Then she and Nick were shuffling outside as quickly as they dared without appearing strange or suspicious. Bellwether was still within sight, power-walking down a crosswalk. They hurried to join a crowd of mammals crossing the same street before the lights changed, then kept what they hoped was an innocuous distance between them and the sheep.

"So do you have any actual ideas about how to do this?" Nick asked Judy from the corner of his mouth.

"Nope. I've never kidnapped anyone before," Judy admitted.

"Oh, good," Nick mumbled. "As long as we're on the same page."

"We'll figure it out," Judy flashed him a bright smile. "We're Crossfire and the Hustler, the best crime-fighting duo in Zootopia!"

"We're also probably the best crime- _committing_ duo in Zootopia, but sure, we'll go with your more optimistic point of view."

Judy giggled without taking her eyes off Bellwether. But she sighed a little when they passed a hot dog stand. "I didn't finish all my dinner," she said. "I'm still hungry."

"Maybe there will be food wherever she's going," Nick shrugged.

"Maybe," Judy replied absentmindedly. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head when Bellwether turned into a part of the city she knew was known for its nightclubs. It was difficult to imagine the cutesy, nerdy mayor cutting loose to electronic music.

Silently, they followed her to the front of a club lit up by neon images of dancing mammals and alcohol logos. The booming bass made it clear that music was playing, but it was impossible to know how it sounded from outside. The sharply-dressed skunk usher holding a clipboard at the door nodded politely at Bellwether, who barely glanced at him as she trotted past the threshold.

Judy made a quick survey of their surroundings, but fortunately, nightclubs are not particularly crowded on Monday nights. She took a deep breath and moved toward the entrance, Nick sauntering beside her with his paws in his pockets.

"Are you sure?" he said teasingly. "This isn't really the kind of place for a cute little bunny."

Tossing him a glare, Judy replied, "Don't call me cute." Nevertheless, she relished the way her fox chuckled.

The skunk eyed them as they came near. "Names?" he asked.

Judy opened her mouth, but it froze in place as her mind scrambled. It seemed obvious that they shouldn't reveal their real names, but she hadn't thought to come up with an alias. A second passed, and she knew that if she paused for much longer, she would just come off as suspicious, so she blurted the first thing to came to her mind. "Crackers."

The skunk stared at her. Judy stared back, keeping her face carefully schooled in an expression of seriousness. Or should it be nonchalance? What's more natural—seriousness or nonchalance? She didn't know! _Okay, don't panic_ —

She was distracted from her rapidly rising anxiety when Nick stepped closer to her, slid his arm around her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "And I'm Cheese," he said, turning his head to wink at her. " _Sweet_ Cheese."

A beat went by as the skunk raised his eyebrow skeptically at both of them. Then Nick smoothly whipped a couple bills from Grandmama's stash out of his back pocket and handed them to the skunk. Shrugging, the skunk accepted the bills, scribbled a couple of notes on his clipboard, and muttered, "All right, you're clear. Go in."

As dearly as Judy wanted to simply hide her face behind her ears, she determinedly kept them behind her head so that she could see as they walked into the club, Nick's paw on the small of her back.

"So…" Nick arched his eyebrows at her with an infuriatingly amused smirk. "Crackers?"

"I told you I'm hungry," Judy grumbled as she glanced away.

"And you thought of _crackers_? They're not even filling!"

"I _like_ crackers!"

"Well, why didn't you think to call yourself Carrots? I already call you that all the time. Is it just too obvious for the future bunny police officer?"

"Look, can we just focus here?" Judy sighed irritably as she stood on tiptoe and peered around the club. "Do you see her?"

There were several dozen mammals dancing with each other—some of them so close together that Judy felt like an embarrassed intruder on a private moment, so she avoided looking at them—and others were sitting at the bars situated along the perimeter. The repetitive music wasn't appealing to Judy's ears, but she tried to ignore it as she searched for a diminutive sheep somewhere in the crowds.

Beside her, Nick shook his head. "Maybe we need to ask around. Someone must have seen her."

It seemed to go without saying that talking to the dancers would be pointless, as they were all so absorbed in their activities. Judy gestured toward one of the bars nearby. Nick shrugged and strode toward it, smiling easily at a vixen who idly watched the dancers as she sipped a blue drink from a straw.

"Hey, there," Nick said, extending his paw for the vixen to take. "This is my companion, Crackers, and I'm Sweet Cheese."

"I bet you are," the vixen grinned as she shook his paw, dragging her eyes up and down his form.

Before Judy could even react to the ire that suddenly rocketed through her spine, Nick pointedly slipped his paw around her waist. "It's true, but I'm really only sweet for one mammal," he smoothly replied with an easy smile.

The vixen's gaze flicked toward Judy, then back to Nick. "A bunny?" she inquired incredulously.

"I only take the best," Nick answered, his tone a little less genial, but his smile still in place. "Anyway, we were actually hoping you could help us with something."

"Little busy," the vixen shot him a sarcastic smile and went back to observing the dancers.

Nick smoothly stepped in her light of sight. "Yes, I know, it takes a lot of energy to daydream about the action _you're_ not getting, but we're looking for a sheep. It's urgent."

The vixen's deep frown didn't faze him at all. Was it just the atmosphere and hormones zipping around in the air, or was Judy finding him even _more_ attractive?

"Sheep?" the vixen repeated dryly.

"Specifically the mayor," Nick explained. "I'm sure you know her. Small. Bespectacled. Big smile with a glint of insanity behind it."

Rolling her eyes, the vixen pointed toward a shadowed hallway on the other side of the dance floor. "Pretty sure she's down that way. She comes in here from time to time and always heads over there."

"Thank you, ma'am," Nick saluted her lazily as he and Judy turned in the direction the vixen had indicated. "Best of luck with that personality. Must be rough."

As they carefully maneuvered their way around the crowds and toward the hallway, Judy couldn't help noticing the way her fox strutted, appearing to own the room with his confident, roving gaze and cocky smirk.

"You're enjoying this _way_ too much," she laughed.

"Indeed, I am," Nick nodded, then directed a mischievous grin toward her. "And when we get home, _this_ cheese is going to spread himself _all over_ his crackers."

"Niiiiick!" Judy moaned, her cheeks suddenly flaring like furnaces.

"Yes, that's _exactly_ what you will say, except you will sound much happier when you say it."

" _Nick!_ "

" _What?! You_ started it earlier today with—"

"So, then," Judy interrupted him as they turned into the hallway, smiling warmly. She reached up and tugged him toward her with his tie. "I'll be salty, you be sweet?"

"Isn't that kind of backwards when you really think about it?" Nick retorted just before their lips met. Then he moaned and mumbled around her mouth, "Oh, sweet, _cheeeesy_ crackers."

Judy giggled as she pressed harder into the kiss. Then her ears twisted toward the faint sound of a heated conversation.

"Wait, shh," she murmured as she pulled away and waved a paw at her bewildered fox. She sharply examined the long hallway, painted in black and lined with unmarked doors. There were voices behind one of them. That was certain.

She crept forward, Nick close behind her, trying to locate the source. About halfway down the hall, she paused, pressing her ear against a door directly to her left. At this proximity, it was easy to make out what was being said. And the voices were definitely familiar.

Nodding at Nick, she quietly fished her carrot pen from her pocket. The fox looked questioningly at her, but she held up an index finger, hoping he'd understand that she was asking him to trust her. She raised the pen close to the door—Nick joining her in pushing an ear against it—and started recording.

" _I just don't understand how they could've gotten in_ ," Dawn Bellwether snapped. " _Do you not lock your lab?"_

" _Of course I do,"_ a voice Judy recognized as that of the ram named Doug answered. " _They got in through a window."_

" _And you don't lock your windows?"_

" _Look, are we going to argue, or are we going to figure out what to do about it?_ "

Bellwether heaved a sigh. " _Well, what kind of mammals were they?_ "

" _A fox and a bunny_ ," Doug replied. " _Dressed in black._ "

A long, meaningful pause. Bellwether uttered a curse that startled Judy with its severity. " _Crossfire and the Hustler. So they_ are _working together now. Do you know what they saw_?"

" _They saw everything_ , _I'm pretty sure,_ " Doug replied. " _But I don't know if they made sense of it all._ "

" _Oh, come on_." Bellwether's tone was laced with a sneer. " _They're not_ complete _idiots. How hard is it to look at all that and figure out that we're shooting predators with Night Howler serum to make them go savage?_ "

Judy grinned triumphantly and mouthed " _Bingo!"_ at Nick, who smirked approvingly.

" _Maybe we can bribe someone from the Den to reveal the Hustler's identity_ ," Bellwether mused. " _Then you could hunt him down, threaten him into telling us who Crossfire is, dart him, and kill Crossfire. Nice and neat. No loose ends."_

Both Nick and Judy widened their eyes at that. But Doug was already continuing the conversation.

" _We could do that,"_ he said. " _I'm reasonably sure that the weasel who brings me the flowers is involved with the Den. Maybe he knows something."_

" _Excellent,_ " Bellwether responded. " _And you have all the serum ready for the PHA meeting tomorrow?"_

Judy barely concealed a gasp as she and Nick once again traded alarmed glances.

" _Yep, all set_ ," Doug affirmed.

" _Enough for_ all _of them."_

" _Did I not just say 'yep'?_ "

" _Okay, then get back to work,"_ Bellwether said. " _And give me the spare gun. I'll keep it at home with me—just in case they come looking. I'll see you tomorrow."_

After a few seconds of shuffling noises, they heard Doug's heavy footsteps trudging toward the door. Nick and Judy scrambled to hide in the opposite room and waited until they could no longer hear Doug in the hallway.

"Okay, let's go," Nick asked. "We have to be quick if we want to get her before she leaves."

"But we should still disguise ourselves," Judy said, tapping her finger in thought as she finally observed the room around them in earnest. It appeared to be a supply room for janitors. She pointed at the towels and safety masks. "How about these?"

A few minutes later, the fox and bunny scurried across the hallway, their heads and bodies wrapped in towels held in place with repurposed mop strings and their eyes concealed by green safety masks. Judy tried to think intimidating thoughts rather than bad improv skit thoughts.

With a deep breath, she burst through the door of the room that she knew held Bellwether.

The sheep looked up with wide eyes from where she sat on a lone chair in the middle of the black, empty, and windowless room with a case in her lap, a half-assembled dart gun in her hooves. Before she could scream, Judy bolted toward her and slapped duct tape across her mouth. Nick was already using his superior strength to force her hooves together so that he could bind them with another strand of duct tape. As he removed the case from Bellwether's lap, Judy stepped in front of her, paws on her hips.

"You've been awfully busy since we last spoke, Mayor Bellwether," Judy said in Crossfire's alto farmer's drawl. "We found out you've concocted a conspiracy to turn all Zootopian predators savage. Can't imagine why, but the Hustler and I here to give you a choice." She held up one palm. "Will you turn yourself in," she paused to flick open her other palm, "or will you have us reveal your crimes on your behalf?"

Bellwether glared and growled behind the duct tape. Judy reached forward to peel it away just enough for her to speak.

"Burn in _hell_ , pred-lover!" she spat. " _I_ am the mayor! You're just some dumb bunny who—"

Frowning, Judy replaced the duct tape and folded her arms sternly as the sheep shrieked mutedly. "If anyone's going to any kind of hell, you're the more likely contender _._ Hurting innocent predators, conspiring to kill me, having your pal Doug make enough Night Howlerpellets to take to a political meeting so that he can induce savagery on—what, three dozen predators at once, right?" She leaned forward and added snidely, with a touch of menace, "I mean, I _am_ just a dumb bunny, but we _are_ good at multiplying."

"And foxes," Nick said, holding up the case and waggling his brows, "are _excellent_ at subtracting. Thanks for the loot."

With that, Judy pressed a cleaning cloth doused with chloroform—thank goodness it was the nightclub's choice in floor cleaner—to Bellwether's nose until her eyes rolled back and closed, her head hanging limply.

For a moment, both the fox and bunny simply stared at her.

"Um, wait, so..." Judy trailed off, biting her claw. "Sorry, how are we getting her out now?"

"Fortunately for you, Fluff," Nick said as he removed the duct tape from Bellwether's hooves and mouth, "I'm experienced in the 'drunk mammal' hustle."

"The..." Judy blinked at him. "The what?"

But a few minutes later, Nick was carrying Bellwether across the nightclub in a princess hold. Both he and Judy nodded politely at the mammals who raised their eyebrows, commenting on how the mayor really needs to remember that she has a low tolerance for alcohol, the poor thing, and she has such a long day tomorrow, full of meetings with committees and councils and, uh, little leagues, you know, things like that.

They stumbled out of the nightclub with Bellwether still in Nick's arms. At the skunk usher's alarmed expression, Nick managed to adjust his hold on the sheep long enough to hand over another large bill, whispering, "Keep this out of the press, okay? It'll just be embarrassing for her."

Right away, the skunk looked away pointedly, paws behind his back. Nick thanked him and nodded Judy toward the street that would put them on the nearest path home.

"Wow," Judy smiled. "You're on a roll tonight, Sweet Cheese."

"Mmm," Nick hummed. "Cheesy rolls."

Judy snorted as she laughed, which made Nick laugh, too.

* * *

 **A/N: Like the dork I am, I definitely laughed stupidly to myself as I wrote this chapter.**

 **To be fair to Judy's parents, I'm sure I'd be really nervous if my kids were spending a lot of time alone with someone I felt certain was bad news, no matter who they were or where they came from. You can't turn off that worry, guys.**

 **Furthermore, readers who like women, if you are with a woman who gets jealous and angry if you show your mother some love and affection or give her gifts (whether it's her birthday or Valentine's Day or whatever), that's a very bad sign. Run. This is some real advice I've had to give a friend recently.**

 **Also, if you're curious, Nick's talent and passion for cooking is inspired by my husband, who grew up with a father but was especially close to his mother and learned from her expert tutelage. I can make decent, edible things, but nothing fancy, and although I strongly appreciate cooking as an art form, I don't like doing it. For him, it's a creative outlet and a way to connect with people. For me, it's a chore and a way to not die.**

 **In fact, I once set a steak on fire while I was trying to make a nice meal for him after a hard week. Hence, I am banned from cooking steak. For now. *grins mischievously***

 **And now I really want Asian cuisine.**

 **Aaaaaaanyway, that's it for now. See you next week! Just a few chapters left!**


	17. Castles Crumble Slowly

**Chapter 17—Castles Crumble Slowly**

 **A/N: Holy crap, guys. This is it. This is** _ **the**_ **chapter. This is the beginning of the end. I almost couldn't bring myself to write it because it was so intimidating to me. But here it is. Written.**

 **This is also the chapter where we delve a bit into social contract theory, which I mentioned was a major source of inspiration for this story. I'm tempted to go off on a tangent about it, especially as it relates to Nick and Judy both in the original movie and in this labor of love, but I will try to let my storytelling speak for itself instead. However, I'll have you know that it's difficult to restrain myself, because I actually really enjoy ranting. :P**

 **As always, my heart sings with gratitude for Camoss and Libious, who are better friends and editors than I could ever deserve.**

 **Onward we go.**

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 3:32 a.m._

* * *

 _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk_...

Nick groaned from where he sprawled on Judy's bed, the bunny curled around his side and her head on his chest. "Your turn, Carrots," he grumbled.

Sleepily, Judy whapped his stomach. "It was my turn last time."

"No, it wasn't. What time is it anyway?" Blinking blearily, Nick raised his head enough to look around the room. "Do you not have a clock?"

"Who has clocks anymore?" Judy mumbled.

The thunking continued. With a sigh, Nick reached over to the nightstand, eyes squeezed shut. It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to find his cell phone. He turned it on just long enough to see the time, then set it down with a growl.

"It's three-freaking-thirty in the morning," he said.

Judy whimpered before sitting up. "All right, I'll go see if I can get her to relax."

"No," Nick gently pulled her down. "You're right. You went last time. It's my turn."

The bunny didn't protest. She immediately plopped back down to the bed and breathed the slow, heavy breaths of a sleeping mammal. Nick bent to peck her cheek before rising from the bed, throwing on his Hustler costume, including the voice box, and heading toward his bedroom—the source of the continuous thunking. He abruptly swung the door open and glared down at Mayor Dawn Bellwether, whose legs—bound in duct tape, as were her hooves and mouth—continued to kick at the air before she realized the wood was gone. She glared back.

"Look, I realize that this isn't an ideal situation for you," Nick said, "but we're not letting you leave, so you may as well sleep. And let us sleep, too, while you're at it."

Bellwether tried to yell at him, moving her jaw as widely as the duct tape would allow, but Nick only shrugged.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk like that," he said condescendingly. "So what will it be this time? A TV show? I could probably arrange that."

At that, the sheep only attempted to shriek louder, scooting forward to kick his shins with her bound legs. Nick, face blank, merely stepped backward and out of her reach. She breathed heavily as she gazed up at him, nostrils flaring.

For some reason, her fury in that moment crushed whatever patience Nick had left. Abruptly, he stooped to pick her up and toss her carelessly onto his bed.

"Listen," he hissed, pointing a stern finger at her and letting her hear the barely restrained ire in his voice. "I don't know what's more insane—the fact that you had this crazy plot in the first place, or that you seem to think we'll actually let you go just for being annoying. Your actions have hurt _thousands_ of innocent mammals. Your actions have hurt _me_. Your actions have hurt mammals I care about. And most importantly"—he directed his finger toward the wall dividing his room from Judy's and leaned closer to the sheep, lowering his voice in such a way that let his fury ring clear—"I _distinctly_ heard you make a plan to kill my partner, my _best_ friend, and I would let the entire _world_ fall apart before I would let your hoof within an _inch_ of her." He paused, letting out a trembling breath as he pierced her with his glower. " _Stop_ expecting that we'll give in to you, and _start_ being grateful that all we've done so far is made you shut up."

Bellwether's own glare didn't falter. But at least she was finally sitting still.

"Now let us sleep," Nick said as he turned to leave the room, "or I'll tie you to the bedpost."

With that, he closed the door and paused for a moment, waiting for another noise. When none came, he trudged back to Judy's room and collapsed next to her on the bed, snuggling his body close to hers. He let his tail cover her like a second blanket. She didn't stir at all.

For a moment, he simply blinked tiredly at her peaceful face, then lay a gentle kiss on her nose.

"My Carrots," he murmured as his eyes fluttered closed. "I'll never let anything happen to you."

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 7:30 a.m._

* * *

" _Sources from city hall claim that Mayor Dawn Bellwether has not shown up to her office today and is unreachable by phone or email,"_ a koala reporter from ZNN was saying from the video playing on Nick's phone, which sat on the dining table between Nick and Judy as they ate bagels for breakfast. An image of Dawn's awkwardly smiling face was suspended next to the koala, who steepled his fingers on the morning news desk. " _It's a severe blow to an already unstable city as fights and riots continue to break out in the streets, led by both predators and prey. The ZPD is currently working to discover the cause of the mayor's disappearance and hopefully find out her location."_

Judy exchanged a nervous glance with Nick, after which they both flicked their eyes toward his bedroom door. Bellwether had finally fallen asleep after spending most of the night waking them up at intervals with her kicking and banging. Fortunately, Nick had already removed everything that he considered most valuable and personal—and certainly anything that would have identified him—when he'd moved out, so he wasn't too upset about anything that the sheep had ruined. What _really_ bothered them was all the lost sleep.

" _The mayor was last seen drunk and being carried out of the Tipped Hat nightclub last night by an unidentified fox and rabbit,"_ the reporter continued. " _If you have any further information on her whereabouts, please call the ZPD immediately."_

With that, the video ended. Judy leaned back in her chair and nibbled her claws. "Do you think anyone saw us bring her in?"

"I didn't see anyone," Nick answered, though he stared with absentminded worry at the table as he crossed his arms. As always, they had stuck to alleyways and other shadowed areas throughout their walk home last night. To get Bellwether inside, they had actually used some of the rope Judy kept stashed for her vigilante activity to pull her through Judy's bedroom window. It had been an awkward and difficult experience that Judy hoped would never need repeating, but at least they had managed to achieve their objective without anyone noticing. Or so they hoped.

"I'm sure that if anyone actually _saw_ us take the mayor into our apartment, they would've already told the ZPD by now, right?" Judy asked, though her voice was tinged with uncertainty.

Nick shrugged. "Probably." Then he looked at her and sighed. "What exactly are we going to do, Carrots?"

"Well, we already know that Doug is targeting the PHA meeting tonight," Judy replied. "We should be there to stop him, maybe give an anonymous tip to the ZPD, and use the opportunity to publicize Bellwether's conspiracy."

"Of course," Nick agreed. "But after that?"

"After that?" Judy blinked.

Leaning forward while clasping his fingers together, Nick nodded at her. "Do you want to keep being Crossfire?"

For a moment, Judy didn't answer. Her eyes met his. "Do you want to keep being the Hustler?"

Silence drifted between them, settling there while they each stared at the table.

"I don't..." Nick began quietly, paused, and began again. "I don't want to do something that... doesn't work. That's all."

"And you don't think vigilantism has been working," Judy stated solemnly.

"Well," Nick sighed, "not any better than anything else I've ever tried." Slowly, thoughtfully, he shook his head. "How do we _actually_ make the world a better place, Carrots?"

The question was important. Judy realized that. But right then, she could only think about the warm ocean that flooded her heart as she looked at the fox's concerned, contemplative face. "I love you," she whispered.

Nick blinked at her. "Huh?"

"Sorry," Judy blushed and smiled softly at him. "I love you for _wanting_ to make the world a better place. For caring."

With an amused huff, Nick glanced away and traced a portion of the swirling bark on the table with his claw. "I love you for that, too."

"But, um, to answer your question," Judy cleared her throat. "I think there could still be a useful purpose for our vigilantism, at least for a little longer. Mammals know about us. They pay attention to us. But..." She slowly raised her shoulders in a ponderous shrug. "Maybe after this, our point will be made, and... Maybe it's time to retire and go on from there." She propped her cheek on her palm. "I think... I've realized that I don't want to fight anymore. I mean, not _just_ fight. I want..." A thoughtful breath fell from her lips. "I want to _build_. Build... bridges. Do you know what I mean?"

Smiling warmly, Nick nodded. "Yes." He reached across the table to gently grasp her paw with his. "And that's how I feel, too."

Judy squeezed his paw in response. "Any ideas for a good exit?"

The fox hummed. Then he tilted his head and tapped his chin. "How much money do we have?"

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 9:46 a.m._

* * *

The apartment was quiet, save for the sound of Nick rustling through his duffel bag in the living room, running a mental checklist of everything inside it. A knock at the door made him pause and furrow his brows. After allowing himself a moment to debate what to do, he stood, tossed the duffel bag into Judy's bedroom, and opened the apartment door.

He had to look down to see his visitor—a familiar fennec who glared up at him and growled, "So you're finally home."

Nick kept his own face neutral. "Didn't think I'd see _you_ again."

"Bet you didn't," Finnick snapped, "seein' as how you betrayed us."

Rolling his eyes, Nick glanced quickly into the hallway to see whether there had been anyone around to hear that, then pulled Finnick inside and shut the door. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at his old friend. "I suppose you've conveniently forgotten about how _you_ betrayed _me_ first."

"You got almost the whole Den _arrested_ , Nick!" Finnick exclaimed.

But Nick hurriedly raised his paws to shush him as his eyes flicked toward his bedroom, an action that Finnick mimicked suspiciously. " _Don't_. Don't. Don't use my name."

The fennec's glare went from angry to skeptical. "Why? What's goin' on?"

Nick shook his head. "First, tell me why you're here."

For a moment, they both stared each other down. But Finnick nodded tersely.

"I just want the same thing you did when you came to me after the food drive," he said. "Closure. Why'd you do it?"

Sighing, Nick walked toward the couch and plopped onto the cushions. "What exactly do you think I did, Finnick?"

"While I was escapin', I heard the police chief askin' about where the Hustler went 'cause you'd been lost in all the confusion," Finnick replied. "You hadn't been in the ballroom. Wasn't hard to realize you'd taken 'em to one o' the secret entrances."

"They were going to kill Crossfire," Nick said simply, his stare hard as stone.

The fennec's own eyes bulged in return. "What, has she become _that_ important to you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Nick answered without hesitation. He shrugged. "Honestly, Finnick, all I went there to do was steal Grandmama's money so that I could botch some of the operations. I didn't know that the ZPD was coming, and I was going to stay out of that whole mess. I didn't change my mind until Crossfire was threatened."

"How long have you even known that—" Finnick abruptly cut himself off as he peered around the living room. He stomped into the kitchen. "Where's that bunny roommate o' yours?"

"Working," Nick replied. "And _please_ be quieter."

"Why, Nick?" Finnick spun to face him. "What other secrets are you hidin' from someone who was your friend for _twenty_ years just because a bunny popped up out o' nowhere?"

"It's not that simple," Nick sighed. "Just... please? We can talk, but I _need_ you to—"

Suddenly, Finnick pivoted and darted toward Nick's bedroom. Before Nick could jump or say anything, the fennec had already opened the door. He stood staring for several seconds at Mayor Dawn Bellwether snoring on the floor, her hooves, legs, and mouth still bound with duct tape, while Nick groaned and rubbed his temples.

Slowly, silently, Finnick closed the door, then turned around to face Nick, his eyes narrower than ever.

"What. _Are._ You. _Doin'_."

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 12:37 p.m._

* * *

"Hey, Judy?"

Turning away from the supply closet at the sound of her name, Judy was confronted with a fellow waitress—a koala—who was fidgeting nervously with her apron.

"What's up, Ruby?" Judy asked as she turned to continue gathering napkins.

"I'm just... I'm just wondering if you could take one of my tables," Ruby said timidly, pointing discreetly at a table where a family of leopards was seated. "Predators make me so nervous, but you never seem to mind them."

Judy gave herself a moment to suppress an irritated sigh. Calmly, she answered, "Just because they're predators doesn't mean they're savage, Ruby."

"I—I know, I just... I mean..." Ruby stammered, her eyes huge. "Pl... Please, Judy?"

Closing the closet and shuffling past her, Judy nodded. "Fine," she said tersely.

As she distributed napkins among the tables that were nearly out of them, she reminded herself that she should be more patient with her co-workers. After all, she had discovered that she still had her own prejudices to unlearn. Still, it was just—

There was a tap on her shoulder. This time, Judy whirled around to greet a tight-lipped porcupine in a pearl necklace she had seated a little while ago.

"Excuse me," the porcupine said. "When are you going to remove the leopards? They're making the other customers uncomfortable."

Blinking confusedly, Judy glanced around the restaurant. Most of the customers—the majority of whom happened to be prey right then—were chatting with each other and focusing on their own meals, but a few were occasionally sending the leopards anxious looks. Judy turned her attention back to the porcupine, who raised her brows expectantly.

"Ma'am, they're not causing a disturbance," Judy said. "We can't just kick them out."

The porcupine eyed Judy skeptically. "Surely you understand that with all that's happening with predators going savage, it's a little... _unnerving_ to be inside an enclosed space with them. If you truly care so little for the safety of your customers, I suppose we'll need to take our business to a different establishment."

Judy glared and wrestled with the temptation to stuff a napkin in the porcupine's mouth. "I suppose you—"

"Don't worry, ma'am," Yannis said from behind her. Judy let her jaw drop as she swiveled her head to face him, but he only nodded graciously at the porcupine. "We'll be sure to usher them out as soon as they're done."

Although the porcupine regarded him for a moment with a brow arched in dissatisfaction, she returned to her table. Judy looked back at Yannis to see him staring at her reproachfully.

"Good customer service is about making the customers want to _stay_ , not _leave_ ," he scolded her.

"And what about the leopards?" Judy responded under her breath as she started clearing a table. "They're customers, too."

"Predators," Yannis replied. "One of the types causing all the trouble lately."

"First of all, that's a _hugely_ biased generalization, and secondly, one of the _owners_ is a _lion_ ," Judy hissed. "How do you think he and his wife will react when they find out that you're treating predator customers like this?"

Yannis shrugged as he trudged past her and toward the kitchen. "I'll worry about that. Just do your job, bunny."

Judy stared at him. Then she stared at the leopards. She stared at the porcupines, the other prey minding their own business around the restaurant, and then back at the leopards.

Balling her fists, she climbed onto the chair of the table she'd just cleaned off, then slammed both of her feet onto the table of itself.

"Excuse me!" she called out over the din.

The conversation quickly faded. Every mammal in the restaurant gazed up at her with eyes either widened in surprise or half-lidded with amusement.

"Thanks," Judy went on. "I just want to let everyone here know that you're welcome here, regardless of who you are or where you came from. I want all of you to know that you're worth something great, and that it's not determined by whether you're a predator or a prey." She gestured widely around the space, ignoring Yannis' face popping around the corner of the hallway leading to the office. "I want all you prey to know that although we should be fighting for a better world, we're not beholden to the mistakes of those who did horrible things while looking like us." Then she smiled warmly at the leopards, who stared at her with expressions that were somewhere between shocked and thankful. "And I want all of the predators to know the same thing. It's wonderful to have you here."

Finally, she let herself meet Yannis' eye. His murderous, murderous eye.

She opened her mouth, but paused when something else caught her attention from the window—a painted van driving slowly by while a certain green-eyed fox stuck half his upper body out the window, beckoning urgently at her.

For a moment, Judy silently watched the van pass the restaurant, her mouth still hanging open. Once it was out of sight, she shook her head and blinked at the mammals, employees and customers alike, who continued staring at her.

"Um, also... Um..." she stumbled, paused—and shrugged. "And also, I quit." Then she jumped down, made her way to the office without looking at Yannis, retrieved her bag, and walked toward the front door. She tossed the stunned restaurant a cheerful wave as she stepped out. "Bye!"

The van was barely still in sight, but Judy saw it turn down a quiet street. She sprinted toward it, relieved to find it parked in a space on the shoulder. Nick spotted her from the passenger seat's sideview mirror and smiled, waving her over.

"That was quick," he remarked as she approached, grinning up at him. "Didn't think Yannis would let you out that soon."

"Well, I quit," Judy replied simply.

Nick's jaw paused mid-comment. He blinked. "I, uh... wasn't trying to make you do that."

"I wanted to," Judy shrugged and curiously examined the vehicle. "What's up? Whose van is this?"

With that, Nick leaned back so that Judy could see the driver. Before she could think to stop it, her mouth tumbled open in dismay when she recognized Finnick. To be fair, the fennec didn't look any happier to see her, judging by the way he steadily, unflinchingly glowered at her.

"How much effort can it possibly to take look up from fluffin' napkins for _one_ second an' notice a van like this driving by the friggin' window?" Finnick asked.

Judy glanced at Nick. "How many times did you drive by waving like a lunatic?"

"I lost count," Nick replied nonchalantly, though his smirk was dripping with self-satisfied amusement.

"And you didn't just come inside because...?"

"Didn't want to deal with Yannis."

"Understandable."

"And what were _you_ doing standing on the table?"

"Giving a riveting speech of inclusivity. What else?" Judy grinned and folded her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

After exchanging a nod of confirmation with Finnick, Nick looked down at Judy. "Finnick is going to help us with our plan tonight."

Once again, Judy locked eyes with the fennec, who still regarded her like a pest he was merely tolerating out of necessity. "Oh," she said, unable to think of what else to say.

"Just to end this whole mess with the savage predators," Finnick explained curtly. "And out o' respect for Nick. I still don't like you, Crossfire."

At that, Judy's eyes snapped wide open. She directed an uncertain glance at Nick, who shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"He figured it out," he said.

"H..." Judy squeezed her eyes shut for a second and shook her head. "How did he—"

"Calculatin' odds an' process of elimination," Finnick interjected flatly. Then he jerked a thumb in Nick's direction. "I ain't an idiot, like this guy."

For a moment, Judy could only stare at him. Finally, she waved her paw dismissively.

"Okay, fine," she said, sighing heavily. "What are we doing?"

"First of all," Nick answered, opening the door to hop out and nodding toward the van's back doors, "let me show you something we did."

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 5:40 p.m._

* * *

The library where the Predators for Harmony Association typically held their meetings featured a number of thick pillars expertly carved to appear as though they were twisting gracefully upward into the ceiling. They were beautiful.

In Judy's opinion, they were even more beautiful when they were decorated with a sheep suspended by ropes tightly wound around her arms and legs, pinning her against it.

Bellwether, eyes baggy from lack of sleep, would certainly have killed Judy, Nick, and Finnick with her glare alone if she could. The duct tape was starting to leave the skin around her mouth red with irritation, so they'd decided to have a little pity on her and kept it sealed with a bandana instead.

Meanwhile, the bunny and two foxes—all dressed as their vigilante egos—worked on pushing some of the tables together to create a makeshift stage. Judy also carried the dart gun case that they had stolen from Bellwether. If she had to set it down for any reason, she kept it close.

"When is the librarian coming back?" Nick asked no one in particular as he gently scooched one of the tables just enough to line up its corners better with the adjacent one.

"Should be back any minute now," Finnick replied, grunting while setting a lonely chair to the side of the room. "I only reserved the space until five forty-five."

Nick leaned against the stage and idly studied the library. "Just wondering if we'll need to reopen the library ourselves," he said, smiling at Judy when she came next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, hugging the case to her chest. "The PHA meeting is supposed to start in twenty minutes. Mammals will start arriving anytime now."

As though hearing his observation, the jangle of keys signaled the librarian's return. The middle-aged deer doe was busy reading a book and sipping from a paper cup of coffee as she walked inside, but she halted in her tracks when she looked up and saw what had become of the library in her absence.

"I..." she said, glancing wildly between the stage, the costumed vigilantes, and the captured mayor, who stared at her with wide eyes that expressed both innocence and fear. "I think I should probably call the police."

"Nope," Finnick said, unceremoniously whipping a gun from his belt—Judy recognized it as identical to one that Nick had used on her when he was trying to get Crossfire caught by the police—and shot a net at her.

Before the doe could leap out of the way, the net rapidly gathered itself around her figure, sending her crashing to the floor. The coffee cup, of course, spilled onto the floor, and Judy scurried over with her paws over her mouth.

"Sorry, sorry!" she exclaimed. "I can clean that up. Where's the janitor's closet?"

The doe—whose nametag read " _Ms. Whitetail"_ —stared at her in both confusion and terror. "Pl... Please... Don't hurt me..."

"Oh, no, no!" Judy waved her paws at her in what she hoped was a reassuring way. "No, we're not here to hurt anyone, don't worry. Just got an announcement to make. But seriously, um..." She peered around curiously. "Where can I get something to clean up the mess?"

Her good intentions were interrupted when Cam, the bespectacled cougar of the Predators for Harmony Association, ambled into the library as well. At first, he was distracted by something on his phone, but the librarian soon changed that.

"Cam!" she cried. "Get out of here!"

The cougar stopped abruptly, glanced up, and widened his eyes.

"Bunny!" was the only warning that Finnick gave Judy, but it was enough. She stepped to the side and narrowly avoided another net shot rushing past her and hitting Cam, trapping him as well.

Quickly, the vigilantes dragged the doe and cougar to the chairs that they had moved to near the bookshelves when they repurposed the tables, helping them sit upright and ensuring that they were comfortable.

"Sorry," Nick apologized to both of them. "We promise nothing will happen to you. We won't take long."

With that, they stood on the stage and waited, Judy gripping the dart gun case.

Sure enough, within minutes, mammals came trickling into the library—all of the same predators that Judy remembered seeing at the PHA meeting last week, plus some new faces, and even a good number of prey. Some of the mammals fled the scene as soon as they got a good look at it. The ones who remained hesitated, startled and uncertain, but either gathered in the empty space near the front of the room or took seats at the back tables that hadn't been used for the stage. Many of them immediately took out their phones to start taking pictures and making recordings. Nearly all of them were noisily interacting—talking with each other about what was happening, shouting demands at the vigilantes to be _told_ what was happening—while Lars, the raccoon Judy had saved from rhinos in a bar, waved enthusiastically at her from the back. She politely wiggled her fingers in return, but otherwise, she tried not to look at him.

All the while, Bellwether screamed unintelligibly around the bandana encircling her mouth. The mammals studied her anxiously, but no one made a move to get her down. She was so high up and surrounded by so many ropes that perhaps they weren't even sure how they'd start.

Once a sizeable crowd had gathered, Nick stepped forward, clasping his paws professionally in front of him like he was about to run a corporate business meeting. Right away, the mammals quieted, staring at him intently, literally on the edges of their seats.

"Thank you all for coming to the Predators for Harmony Association today," he said, raising his voice while managing to sound like he was speaking casually. "I see we have some new faces today, especially prey. Seems the food drive was successful in more ways than one." With a sigh, he rubbed his paws together. "Now, since I'm sure someone has called the police by now, we'll get started and cut right to the chase.

"You may know this sheep," he motioned at the ewe struggling on the pillar, "as Mayor Dawn Bellwether. In a recent press conference, she announced that predators have been mysteriously going savage, likely due to a biological factor that prey do not have. What she did _not_ tell you"—he paused to fish Judy's carrot pen from his pocket, holding it high for all to see—"is that she's actually the one who orchestrated the entire phenomenon."

Half the audience broke into consternated murmurs. The other half tried to shush them, their eyes not leaving Nick and the pen.

"Oh, you don't believe me?" Nick queried rhetorically. "Don't worry, you don't have to. You can believe her instead."

And he pressed the " _PLAY"_ button. The sheep herself shut her eyes and shook her head, making sobbing sounds, but they couldn't drown out the sound of her voice filling the room.

" _Crossfire and the Hustler. So they_ are _working together now. Do you know what they saw_?"

Then came Doug's voice.

" _They saw everything_ , _I'm pretty sure. But I don't know if they made sense of it all._ "

" _Oh, come on_." It was Bellwether again. " _They're not_ complete _idiots. How hard is it to look at all that and figure out that we're shooting predators with Night Howler serum to make them go savage?_ "

At that, the crowd gasped, many of them gazing at Bellwether with jaws dropped, while she shook her head more vigorously, her eyes desperately trying to convey innocence.

But her damning voice went on. " _Maybe we can bribe someone from the Den to reveal the Hustler's identity. Then you could hunt him down, threaten him into telling us who Crossfire is, dart him, and kill Crossfire. Nice and neat. No loose ends."_

Doug's voice returned. " _We could do that. I'm reasonably sure that the weasel who brings me the flowers is involved with the Den. Maybe he knows something."_

The mention of the Den of Thieves elicited another round of gasps from the room, but a few of the mammals called again for quiet as they continued to listen.

" _Excellent,"_ said Bellwether in the recording. " _And you have all the serum ready for the PHA meeting tomorrow?"_

At that, several predators in the audience peered warily around the library while shooting livid glares at Bellwether.

" _Yep, all set_ ," Doug answered.

" _Enough for_ all _of them."_

" _Did I not just say 'yep'?_ "

" _Okay, then get back to work. And give me the spare gun. I'll keep it at home with me—just in case they come looking. I'll see you tomorrow."_

And with that, the recording ended. Stunned silence pervaded the library as the mammals' eyes flicked between the mayor and the vigilantes.

Nick opened his mouth to speak again.

But a horse in the front beat him to it.

"Why should we believe him?" he shouted. "He's a fox!"

None of them had been expecting that. For a moment, the vigilantes stood on the stage, blinking down at the horse. But some of the other prey were nodding.

"And a predator!" a beaver added.

A moose raised his hoof. "He was part of that terrorist group, too!"

Judy stared around the room as other prey expressed their doubts.

"It's easy to fake with technology these days."

"It's too convenient to pin the blame on someone else."

"I've never even _heard_ of Night Howlers."

"How are we supposed to trust a fox? _Two_ foxes, even?"

Fortunately, a few other prey mammals were countering them.

"What do you mean? How do you fake something like _that?"_

"I mean, if you actually _know_ anything about biology, it really makes more sense that there would be some external source causing this."

Soon, the predators had overcome their shock to begin piping up as well, arguing with the prey who remained skeptical. The voices around the room grew louder and more heated with every passing second.

Judy glanced at the foxes. Both watched the commotion with their brows drawn up in disbelief, their shoulders sagging.

Above them, Bellwether's eyes were crinkled with a cocky smirk.

Then Judy pursed her lips and clenched her fists, stomping closer to the edge of the stage.

"Now you all _shut up_ and listen!" she shouted, startling the crowd into silence. She gestured emphatically toward Nick with the paw that wasn't grasping the gun case. "This fox is a good, kind, intelligent, golden-hearted mammal who had choices stolen from him because so many of _you_ had already decided who he was!" She pointed around at all of them. "When you live in a society that promises that _anyone_ can be _anything_ , a society that promises it will protect and support _all_ of its citizens equally, a society that promises to promote and facilitate our growth and prosperity as individuals _and_ communities, and then you break _all_ those promises, what right do you have to judge those who choose not to keep their half of the deal?

"Yes, this mammal is a fox," Judy plowed on, lacing her fingers with Nick's. "He's a fox who lives in a society with laws that were supposed to clear a path toward becoming his best possible self, and they've failed him! What is he bound to, then? Why are you criticizing _him_ for being a vigilante when you should be asking _yourselves_ why it happened _?"_ She pointed fiercely at them again. _"_ Explain to me why you're angry at him for not keeping to your unjust standards instead of doing your part to fight them?"

She paused, holding in her breath to push the threat of tears back down her throat before finishing. "You will _listen_ to him! You will _listen_ and you will _care_ about him and mammals like him, the way you should have done from the start!"

Feeling Nick squeeze her paw, Judy looked up at him. He winked at her, but he addressed the crowd. "Crossfire's vigilantism is another symptom of our brokenness. How can anyone look at a capable, passionate, and intelligent mammal like her and not think that all mammals deserve equal opportunities?"

He directed his gaze to the audience as he went on. "She wanted to make the world a better place, but when the city council chose not to pass the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, it was Zootopia's way of telling her that they had already decided what she was, too. She wasn't given a fair chance, so she created one for herself." He held up the carrot pen again. "This, right here, is proof that some mammals will keep stealing chances from you and breaking their promises to you if you don't fight them. I know that I've made mistakes," he added with a sincere, humble bow, "and I'm sorry for the pain that I've caused anyone while I was searching for a way to make a place for myself here. But that's not what this is about." He lowered the pen and raised the paw holding Judy's instead. " _This_ is what we're here for. We're here to stop the forces that oppress and divide us. We want you to join us."

The crowd was quiet again. Predators and many prey smiled up at them, nodding. Judy triumphantly ignored the return of Bellwether's glower and the sound of her irate, indignant screeches behind the bandana.

Suddenly, however, Judy remembered that they were pressed for time. Nick and Finnick seemed to be thinking the same thing, as they both nodded at her to continue. She cleared her throat.

"Night Howlers are a type of flower. The scientific name is _midnicampum holicithias,"_ she explained. "They're known to induce violent madness in anyone who ingests them or is hit with a toxin made from its juice. Savagery can happen to _anyone_." Then she let go of Nick's paw so that she could open the dart gun case, revealing the gun and serum pellets nestled inside. "If you need more proof, it's in here."

"Who are you trying to fool?" scoffed a hippo. "Those pellets look just like blueberries!"

"Sweetie, you've been brainwashed," a pig in the front said as she shook her head, gazing up at Judy with her brows tented upward with concern and sympathy. "Do you really think a _prey_ can go savage? It's not in our biology."

"I assure you that we can," Judy replied tersely, narrowing her eyes threateningly at the pig.

"And if it really is some flower causing it," the pig continued as though Judy hadn't spoken, "it's probably because the predators _are_ already genetically predisposed to violence, and the flowers bring that out. It's how predators are made. They're just biologically inferior that way."

That last comment sent the room into a frenzy of furious discussion, some defending the pig while others ripped her arguments apart.

Before Judy herself could figure out how to answer that, a movement caught her eye—curly white fluff bobbing above the bookshelves.

Doug.

She cursed quietly to herself. _Where's the ZPD?_

The ram had climbed one of the tall bookshelf ladders and positioned his dart gun over the top. Heart bursting into a sprint, Judy's eyes followed its aim.

Nick was hurrying toward the other end of the stage, where a few mammals had started punching each other. He wasn't looking at the gun trained on him.

Finnick had already jumped off the stage and was running toward Doug with all the strength in his little legs, one paw on his net gun. He wouldn't get there soon enough, though.

"Hustler!" Judy shouted. But the mammals in the room kept yelling at each other, and he didn't turn around.

" _Slick!"_ she called out more urgently.

He still didn't hear her. A capybara whose fist he was holding back from a ferret turned around to spit in his face. He wasn't paying attention at all.

 _NICK!_ Judy screamed in her mind, dashing across the stage.

As she shoved Nick to the side, she suddenly felt an impact on her arm, then a wetness sinking through the fabric of her suit and into her skin. Immediately, her blood burned. Darkness rimmed her vision.

Somewhere in the direction of the bookshelves, there was a scream, a crash, and a loud, thump, followed by the deep voices of a ram and a fennec cursing at each other.

The other mammals in the room were shrieking their shock and their questions. Judy turned to the pig, who gazed at her with eyes and mouth wide open in horror.

"Is that... what you think?" Judy breathed, not knowing if the pig could even hear her over the din. "Just... you... watch."

Briefly, she exchanged glances with Bellwether, who was slowly shaking her head, her stare a disconcerting mixture of denial and vacant resignation.

When her eyes met Nick's, that was when her legs collapsed beneath her.

* * *

 _Day 15: Tuesday, July 1_ _st_ _, 2016, 6:15 p.m._

* * *

There was a significant portion of Nick's brain that whispered fiercely to him that what he was seeing wasn't real.

Judy wasn't falling to the stage floor.

That cry of pain didn't happen.

There was no blue stain on her arm.

But the rest of him knew that there was no time for denial. He dropped to Judy's side and carefully cradled her head and body against him. The pandemonium throughout the room was muted, the way screams sounded blurred underwater.

"Carrots," he said, trying to keep his breathing under control, "please tell me you didn't do what I think you just did."

She had the nerve to chuckle at that, though it was interrupted by a wince as her body twitched. Nick cursed once, twice, thrice.

"Judy," he murmured urgently, "you are the most infuriating mammal I know, and if I lose you, I swear I will—"

"Take the case," Judy panted between grit teeth, trying to push the gun case at him. He had barely even noticed that she was still holding onto it. "Get it to the ZPD."

"I'm not leaving you behind!" Nick shook his head firmly. A sudden tear cascaded down his cheek behind the mask. "That's not happening!"

"I can't—" she began, then let out a short sob, arching and writhing in Nick's arms.

"We'll think of something," Nick promised as he held her tighter in an attempt to still her.

And she did abruptly go still. But only for a moment. Then her claws rose to grip the back of his head, digging into his skin, while her teeth sunk into his neck in a succession of quick, furious bites. He yelped, the tears now flowing in rivers on his face, but his arms remained around her, trying to hug her close to him.

But her leg came up and connected fiercely with his abdomen, sending him hurtling backwards. As pain filled his vision with static and his lungs labored in vain to breathe again, the mammals in the library erupted into shrieks of alarm. Coughing, Nick finally managed to wobble to a standing position, wheezing heavily and clutching his stomach. Desperately, his eyes roved the area for Judy, but it was easy enough to figure out where she was, based on the way the crowd parted to get out of her way. They cleared just enough space for him to catch sight of her eerily dilated, vacant eyes, and the drool hanging in slings from her snarling mouth. She had paused in her rampage to claw lividly at her mask.

"No! No, don't do that!" he yelled at her, even while knowing it was futile.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the red and blue lights of the ZPD flashing outside the library windows. He stumbled as rapidly as he could toward the edge of the stage and jumped. Although his legs crumpled beneath him when he hit the ground, he quickly rose to his feet, pushing his way through the crowd to where he could hear her grunting and growling.

When he reached her, she was curled in a ball on her back, trying to use her feet and paws to push her mask off her head. The hem had risen enough to reveal a couple inches of gray fur, scratched and bleeding from the impact of the claws in her feet. He firmly pushed all his own pain to the back of his mind and dashed forward, gathering her in his arms again. Immediately, she refocused her ire onto him, latching deeply onto his shoulder with her teeth. Nick barely restrained an agonized scream behind his grit teeth as he sprinted blindly into the crowd, counting on them to simply let him through.

They did. Whether out of respect for his determination to escape or fear of the savage bunny, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. Somehow, he managed to see through the pain spots blotting his vision to maneuver his way around the tables and chairs. He paused when he spotted Finnick behind the bookshelves, but the fennec waved him on.

So he ran toward the front doors, kicking them open. At the noise and sudden change in lighting, Judy detached her teeth from his shoulder so that she could whip her head around and observe her new surroundings.

Several members of the ZPD stopped abruptly on their way toward the entrance, their eyes widening at the sight of Judy writhing, reaching toward them with her claws, hissing at them with saliva dribbling down her chin. Before the officers could say anything, Nick darted to the side and toward Finnick's van. Behind him, the officers yelled at him to freeze, but he yanked the van door open and clambered inside with Judy, shutting it closed the second he could.

He finally released Judy, who decided that the fabric seats were her next target. She chewed and tore at them while Nick listened to the officers surround the van, demanding that he exit immediately. Blinking around the tears still blurring his eyes, he removed his mask, snatched up the chloroform Finnick kept both for cleaning and past exploits with the Den, and clumsily poured it onto the cloth. Then he looked at his savage bunny, took a deep breath to gather his courage, and lunged at her. He hurriedly yanked off her mask and pressed the chloroform to her nose. Predictably, she kicked and scratched at him furiously, but he held her firmly, only relaxing when she finally went still. Gently, he laid her on the floor, his heart lurching at how peaceful her face looked now that she was unconscious.

"I'm so sorry, Judy," Nick whispered, stroking her cheek.

His ear twitched. The officers outside spoke into their radios about a hostage situation, calling for backup. Good. That gave him a little more time.

"And I'm _also_ sorry for what I'm about to do," he whispered again. "But I promise to keep my eyes closed."

He kept his promise. The whole time that he pulled off her Crossfire costume and got her dressed in the outfit she had packed in the duffel bag, he kept his eyes squeezed firmly shut. His shaking paws flinched away from sensitive areas, and he was careful to only spend as much time as absolutely necessary to make sure the clothing was comfortable for her. Then he turned his back to her and started taking off his own costume.

"Don't peek," he said to Judy over his shoulder, mostly to try to lighten himself up. It didn't work.

Once he had donned his own change of clothes, he dropped to his knees and hurriedly started filling the costumes with wads of dollar bills. Sirens were approaching. Backup had arrived. And judging by the murmurs outside, many of mammals from the meeting had exited the library and were now watching the police work to save them from the savage bunny and the fox who had kidnapped her.

"You were supposed to help me with this, you know," Nick mumbled to Judy as he checked over the stuffed costumes to make sure they properly resembled a fox and a bunny. He used the remains of Judy's ropes to strap them to the fireworks she had stolen from Mr. Big's shed.

A minute later, he quietly opened the van's sunroof and positioned the fireworks beneath it.

He took a lighter from his old utility belt.

He ignited the fireworks.

And he didn't stay to watch them shoot upward or pay much attention to the screams of the mammals outside. Instead, he scrambled to scooch Judy aside enough to open the hatch that he and Finnick had made together earlier that day. The fireworks exploded in the air above them while he bent down to open the sewer directly underneath them. He scooped Judy carefully in his arms and leapt into the darkness.

His feet landed in water, and he winced at the pain that rocketed through his abdomen from the impact, a shockingly excruciating reminder of Judy's earlier kick. However, his adrenaline let him pause only long enough to steady himself and make sure Judy was okay. Then he splashed through the water, relying on his night vision to guide him. He tried not to imagine what it must look like to see bright, colorful sparks and half-charred dollar bills drifting through the air while ZPD officers and PHA members stared.

Instead, he focused on imagining a safe home somewhere, with a safe bunny.

He clung to that image as he pressed her to his chest.

* * *

 **A/N: Well... There it goes.**

 **The final two chapters will probably be pretty short. They're just meant to wrap things up. My goal is to post one on Saturday and one on Sunday. I'll do my best to make sure it happens.**


	18. My Heart is Turning

**Chapter 18—My Heart is Turning**

 **A/N: Hello! I'm sorry, I know this is late, and I had** _ **really**_ **hoped to post** _ **both**_ **of the last chapters this weekend, but it turns out that I am as bad as ever at setting realistic expectations for myself. This week was just too busy for me to accomplish everything that I wanted to do. Doesn't help that I had a couple days of just being purely exhausted in every possible way. I needed a rest.**

 **So here's this chapter. It's a short one as we start wrapping things up. Only one left. :)**

 **As always, a million bajillion thanks to my dear and darling friends, Camoss and Libious, for reviewing this _literally_ at the last second. I told them I would post even if they couldn't review with such short notice, but they both came through like the shining examples of awesomeness that they are.**

* * *

 _Day 15: Wednesday, July 2_ _nd_ _, 2016, 8:46 a.m._

* * *

" _Although former Mayor Dawn Bellwether has been placed behind bars, awaiting trial for masterminding the Night Howler conspiracy, there's still no sign of the three vigilantes who shed light on her plot."_

Eyes baggy, Nick stared blankly at the face of the koala ZNN anchor speaking on his Muzzlebook newsfeed. Next to the anchor's face was a small box playing clips of the meeting at the library. It already felt decades ago.

He managed a tired smirk when the clip showed the firework rocket shooting their stuffed costumes toward the clouds. The diversely colored sparkles looked quite striking against the azure evening sky. How nice that someone had recorded it so that he wouldn't have to miss it after all. Judy would probably love to see it, too.

The image of Judy's laughing face shot a javelin of ice through his heart. Frowning wearily, he glanced at his bedroom door.

But the koala's voice interrupted his guilty thoughts. " _As you can see, the video apparently shows Crossfire and the Hustler committing suicide by firework, but no remains have been found. The ZPD suspects that they may still be alive and are continuing to search for them. If you have any information on these vigilantes, please contact the ZPD immediately."_

The video ended just as Nick heard a low growl from the direction of his bedroom.

"Finally awake, Fluff?" he called weakly. She had been awake off and on throughout the night, decimating what little of Nick's belongings had remained intact after keeping Bellwether captive. It was true that the noise and Nick's attempts to assuage her by hurriedly throwing vegetables inside factored heavily into his second sleepless night in a row. Even if it weren't for that, though, the weight anchoring his heart to his stomach would have kept him restless anyway.

He stood and walked to the kitchen to get more vegetables to toss into the bedroom, reminding himself that everything would somehow be okay.

* * *

 _Day 16: Thursday, July 3_ _rd_ _, 2016, 8:18 a.m._

* * *

" _Since discovering that the source of the predators' savagery was a toxin made from midnicampum holicithias, colloquially known as Night Howlers, Thornpaw Pharmaceuticals is working on finding a cure, providing hope to loved ones of the afflicted predators."_

With his stomach on the couch and his cheek squished against a throw pillow, Nick's ear twitched with interest. He raised his head slightly, blinking groggily at the lioness reporter on the screen of his laptop.

" _We'll keep you posted on that development,"_ the lioness continued. _"For now, pop star singer Gazelle has agreed to an interview this evening to share her views on what the recent developments. Gazelle, it's lovely to see you today."_

The camera panned out to show Gazelle, smiling politely while seated next to the lioness, both dressed smartly in blouses and blazers.

" _Gazelle, what are your thoughts on the conspiracy?"_ the lioness queried.

" _I think it makes complete sense,"_ Gazelle replied. _"I don't claim to know why Ms. Bellwether chose to do this, but it's a relief to have a logical explanation for why predators were going savage. The fact that Crossfire bravely demonstrated that it can happen to prey, too—"_ She paused to shrug. " _Well, after that, the only mammals who can still bear ill will toward predators are simply in denial and probably just looking for an excuse to legitimize their prejudice."_

Nodding, the lioness gestured toward her. " _And aren't you planning a benefit concert for the victims and families affected by the Night Howler toxin?"_

" _Yes, but it's also a celebration of everything that the partnership between Crossfire and the Hustler has come to symbolize,"_ Gazelle said, smiling warmly at the camera. " _I think it's clear that mammals throughout the city are inspired by how much a predator and prey clearly care for each other and what they can accomplish when they work together."_

" _Indeed,"_ the lioness agreed. " _Recent social media polls have indicated strong public approval toward them. Some experts even attribute the sudden decrease in hate crime and riots toward their influence."_

At that, Nick raised his eyebrows. He hadn't been paying much attention to social media since bringing Judy home. Any spare time that he didn't use for feeding her, tending to his wounds, and researching possible antidotes for Night Howlers was spent trying to catch up on sleep.

He sat up slowly, grunting tiredly and paused the video so that he could scroll through his Muzzlefeed again. Sure enough, every few posts featured comments supporting the things he and Judy had done.

Smirking fondly, he glanced toward the door and murmured, "You've got to see this, Carrots."

He had to give himself a moment to let the pain of worry pass through his heart before moving again. Then he went back to the news clip he had been watching and clicked on the "PLAY" button. A box with a photograph of Leodore Lionheart appeared next to the lioness.

" _Former mayor Dawn Bellwether was unavailable for comment,"_ the lioness was saying, " _but former mayor Lionheart had a statement to share."_

The screen transitioned to an interview that a porcupine reporter was having with Lionheart in prison. The lion looked thoroughly pleased to have a microphone held up to his muzzle again.

" _I knew nothing about what Bellwether was planning,"_ he said with an easy, genial smile. " _I just knew that something was going wrong, so I tried to do something about it. I mean, did I falsely imprison those mammals? Well, yes. Yes, I did. It was a classic 'doing the wrong thing for the right reasons' kind of a deal._

" _Of course, right now, there are more pressing matters at paw,"_ he continued, turning a charming grin to the camera. " _As Zootopia will be having an emergency vote for a new mayor in the next few days, I'd like to point out that I'm running for reelection. As a reminder, the judge granted me leniency, so I'm due to complete my prison term soon, and I'm more determined than ever to make our city all that it can be._

" _In fact,"_ he plowed on while pointing at the camera with his index finger before the porcupine reporter could get in a word edgewise, " _I can already tell you what I'll make my priority. With their efforts, Crossfire and the Hustler have more than proven what smaller mammals are capable of. They've also shown how predators and prey can work together for a common cause. There's never been a greater reason to believe that we need to extend more opportunities to all mammals, regardless of their size or genetic family. That's why it's my pleasure to promise,"_ he paused to smile winningly, " _that if I'm reelected, I pledge to pass the Mammal Inclusion Initiative as my first act in office."_

After that, the video soon ended. Nick was left blinking at the screen in surprise.

"Carrots," he whispered. "You really need to come back."

In response, he heard a sudden slam against the door, followed by the enraged growls and yells with which he had become familiar by now. With a heavy sigh, he rose and headed toward the fridge.

* * *

 _Day 17: Friday, July 4_ _th_ _, 2016, 9:42 a.m._

* * *

" _We have great news today,"_ said the moose reporter on Nick's laptop. _"The scientists at Thornpaw Pharmaceutical have finalized an antidote for the Night Howler toxin and are producing enough to rehabilitate each predator who was affected."_

Nick paused in the act of washing dishes to stare wide-eyed at the screen.

" _The antidotes have already been distributed to the hospitals where the savage predators are being kept,"_ the moose went on. A small picture of a large needle containing a light blue liquid appeared next to his head. _"The doctors will be administering them shortly. They will also keep some in stock in case other savage mammals are found in the aftermath of former mayor Dawn Bellwether's arrest."_

The water kept rushing from the faucet for a minute or two after the news clip ended, Nick trying to sort through the thousands of ideas that were crashing his mind at once. Finally, he turned off the water and hurried to his bedroom to get changed from his pajamas to his regular clothes.

* * *

 _Day 17: Friday, July 4_ _th_ _, 2016, 3:36 p.m._

* * *

Otterton stirred on the hospital bed, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked in confusion at the room around him, then again when he noticed Nick seated in a chair close by, a duffel bag at his feet. The fox studied him with an expression hovering somewhere between relief and anxiety.

"Hustler?" Otterton whispered hoarsely, tiredly closing his eyes for a moment.

Nick smiled softly. "You remember."

"Can't forget that face," Otterton replied. He cleared his throat. "I was in Manchas' limo. I told him—"

"Night Howlers," Nick interrupted with a chuckle. "A lot of time has passed since then, my friend." Then he frowned, looking guiltily at his paws for a moment. "But listen, I... I don't really have time to explain or catch you up on everything that's happened. Someone else will have to do that for you. First, I have to tell you, I..." With a heavy sigh, he forced his eyes to meet Otterton's. "I've left the pack."

A warm smirk crept across Otterton's face. "Have you?" He nodded weakly. "Good for you. I always knew you would."

Nick gave himself a moment to smile gratefully before frowning. "But I have a friend—a very dear friend—who was also affected by the Night Howlers. She needs the antidote, but I can't bring her to the hospital." He met the otter's gaze squarely and held up a needle filled with water and blue food coloring. "I know you just woke up, but I need to ask for your help with one more hustle."

At first, Otterton tried to sit up, but it proved too strenuous. His head fell back against his pillow, but he nodded. "You know me. Always ready."

Moments later, Olivia Otterton shuffled into the room, yawning and holding a bowl of salad that she'd bought from the hospital cafeteria. She halted mid-step, mouth still partially open, when she caught sight of her husband, convulsing yet staring at her lucidly.

"O-Olivia!" he exclaimed. "N-Need... more..."

His wife didn't waste any time. She pivoted into the main hallway immediately, crying out for a nurse to bring more of the Night Howler antidote. Within seconds, an antelope nurse was scurrying into the room, a needle containing a powdery blue liquid in her hoof.

When she reached Otterton's bedside, he let out a single screech and lashed out violently, knocking the needle from the antelope's hoof. Then he immediately fell still.

For a moment, both Mrs. Otterton and the antelope gazed at Mr. Otterton with bated breath. Finally, he gradually blinked his eyes open, made a show of glancing around his room as though it was his first time seeing it, and smiled fondly at his wife.

"Olivia," he murmured with quiet pleasure, managing to properly sit up enough to raise his arms toward her. With a gasp of relief and elation, she accepted his silent invitation, jumping onto the bed and into his embrace. While holding her close, the otter cast an apologetic look toward the antelope. "Sorry about the scare. I think it was just the last of it leaving my system."

"That's all right, sir," sighed the antelope as she bent to the floor to pick up the fallen needle. "Just glad you're okay." She straightened, frowning at the crack in the barrel of the needle and the liquid dripping from it. Then she strode out of the room, mumbling about having to throw it away, and what a waste of perfectly good medical supplies.

Understandably, Olivia didn't want to leave her husband's side for a single second now that he was awake, so it took a few minutes for Otterton to convince her that he would really like a bowl of soup from the cafeteria, if she wouldn't mind getting one for him. When she finally left, he cleared his throat again.

"Hustler?" he said in a low voice, his eyes watching the window of his room for unexpected guests.

With that, Nick crawled out from beneath the hospital bed, holding a perfectly unscathed needle and its accompanying blue liquid. He smirked with satisfaction at it, locked it in a case that he gingerly lowered into his duffel bag, then turned a warm smile toward the otter.

"I can't thank you enough, Otterton," he said.

But the otter merely waved at him dismissively. "You've thanked me enough by finally getting out of there." He reached out to pat Nick's arm. "Shows how much you've grown. You were always too good for them."

"So are you," Nick replied, raising his brows pointedly.

Otterton's smile remained, though it faded.

The two mammals exchanged amiable nods as Nick turned to leave the room. A few nurses sent him suspicious glances as he passed, but he kept his focus on moving forward.

That's where it should always have been.

* * *

 _Day 17: Friday, July 4_ _th_ _, 2016, 4:24 p.m._

* * *

When Nick stepped into his apartment, he was greeted with the sound of Judy gnawing lividly on his bedroom door. Again. At this point, he was surprised there was any wood still left.

Sighing heavily, he set the duffel bag on the couch and withdrew the needle. He gave himself a minute to take several deep breaths, trying not to remind himself that he would probably only have one shot to get this right. Everything that he had read online about administering antidotes for _midnicampum holicithias_ mentioned that it should be injected near the belly button, so he would have to be careful and precise.

He listened to her thrash in frustration against the door.

Perhaps he should wait.

So he sat on the couch, holding the needle on his lap, shoulders rigid and tense, staring at the middle space before him. Judy always tired herself out eventually.

* * *

 _Day 17: Friday, July 4_ _th_ _, 2016, 6:31 p.m._

* * *

It took a little longer than Nick had anticipated, but finally, Judy quieted enough for him to guess that she had fallen asleep. Carefully, he inched the bedroom door open wide enough so that he could peek inside. Sure enough, the bunny was sprawled on the floor, snoring, one of his bathrobes half-shredded in her teeth. Fortunately, he had never really cared for that bathrobe anyway.

The sight of her ragged fur, torn clothing, and self-inflicted scratches and bites caused Nick's heart to lurch and rain to his toes, as it did each time he actually looked at her in this state. It was hard to believe sometimes that this was his bunny, his Judy. In many ways, he supposed it really _wasn't_ her—but it was supposed to be. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than to have her mind back in her body.

Holding his breath, heart hammering against his chest in sheer panic, he squeaked the door open a little wider and crept inside on tiptoe, the needle and hydrogen peroxide in his paws. Silently lowering himself to his knees beside her, he gulped and lifted her torn shirt just above her belly button.

He gently rubbed a dab of hydrogen peroxide on her stomach. Judy sucked in a breath and kicked idly at the sudden contact but otherwise didn't stir. When he was sure that she wasn't going to wake up, Nick positioned the needle a few inches to the side of her belly button. Then he squeezed his eyes closed and pressed the syringe forward.

 _That_ woke her up.

As soon as had he pushed the liquid into her body, her eyes flew open as a scream of pain and agitated surprise ripped from her chest. Her feral eyes locked on him, and her lips snarled as she leapt forward. Just like they had as they escaped the library a few days ago, her teeth sunk into his shoulder, gnawing at his flesh while he let out a yelp of agony.

But it didn't last long. The antidote worked quickly, and she was soon resting limply against him, asleep once more.

Once the pain in his shoulder had subsided, Nick gently scooped her up and carried her to his bed. Although most of the mattress's stuffing had been torn away by now, there was enough left for him to settle comfortably on it, holding Judy in his lap.

For a while, he watched her face, the picture of serenity as she lay unconscious. It didn't take long for sleep to overtake him, too.

* * *

 _Day 17: Friday, July 4_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:58 p.m._

* * *

"Nick?"

The sound of her voice speaking his name, even in that hoarse, uncertain tone, triggered a deluge of warm, elating gladness through Nick's body. Dreams immediately forgotten, his eyes snapped open. Those violet eyes that he so adored met his with an exhausted, questioning, and loving gaze. Suddenly, he'd never felt lighter or warmer in his life.

"Carrots," he breathed, adjusting his position to cradle her head in the crook of his neck as he held her close. "Judy. I can't believe you're..." He shook his head. "I missed you so much. I don't know what I would have done if..."

Desperate relief choked his throat and squeezed his chest. He buried his muzzle in her fur and tightened his hold. Judy's responding hug was weaker, but the feeling of her fingers on his back was enough to make him feel invulnerable to anything outside of their embrace.

At length, they pulled apart, each with loving smiles and glistening tears in their eyes. Then Judy gasped and peered closer at the wounds she had left him when she'd turned savage.

"Did I do all this?" she whispered, studying each bite and scratch mark with muted horror.

"Don't think of it like that," Nick answered, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. "The Night Howlers did it, not you."

"Nick," Judy said, raising her head enough to gently and briefly kiss him. "I'm so sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

"Carrots, it's okay, really." Nick insisted and softly kissed her back. "Thanks to you, I really am okay." Then he smirked slyly at her. "And thanks to _me_ , _you_ are okay now, too, so you can just keep kissing me to show your gratitude."

Chuckling, Judy leaned back enough to playfully tap his nose. "If we're both okay because of each other, then that makes us even. I don't have to do _anything_ to show my gratitude."

"Hmm," Nick hummed, his eyes locked on hers. "You're right. How about you kiss me just because you love me, and you know it?"

"Do I know that?" Judy quirked a brow at him. Then she stroked his cheek. "Yes. Yes, I do."

She pressed his lips against his as they melted into each other.

* * *

 **A/N: You know how there are things you never expect to say during your lifetime? "Committing suicide by firework" is one of those things for me.**

 **The last chapter will go up on Saturday or Sunday. :)**

 **Without further ado, I am _very_ sleepy and have yet another long week ahead of me that requires an early start, so please forgive me if any mistakes remain.**


	19. The Most Amazing Things

**Chapter 19—The Most Amazing Things**

 **A/N: And the cherry on top is here.**

 **Camoss and Libious, thank you again for looking over this, encouraging me and offering suggestions. Camoss has been there for every step of this project and helped me find the courage to start posting it in the first place. Libious became an editor for me later, but his friendship was changing my life even before that. Both have been incredibly accommodating and supportive in every possible way, both in this story and everyday life. I owe so much to you guys.**

 **Thank you, too, to The StarsShadow15, who offered his comments and support during the earlier stages. I'll always value his friendship as well.**

 **Of course, thank you to all of** _ **you**_ **who have stuck by me and spurred me on with your reviews, follows, favorites, and/or kudos. All these small things have had a powerful impact on me. Thank you, thank you.**

 **And here we go.**

* * *

 _Day 22: Friday, July 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 11:28 a.m._

* * *

The skies were so clear and blue that if it weren't for the prairies rushing past, it might have been impossible to know that the train was moving. Occasionally, a bird fluttered along the breeze. The flowers interspersed within the tall green grass created a blurry stream of bright colors.

It was a beautiful sight, but the bunny and fox sitting alone in a room on the train were mostly looking at each other.

Honestly, it was a little ridiculous. When they weren't exchanging smiles, they were cuddling, holding each other's paws, and generally too enveloped in their togetherness to care about much else.

That was perfectly fine with them.

Upon arriving at their destination, Nick and Judy made their way toward the doors, the fox carrying the wicker picnic basket they had brought with them. They both smiled widely at the sight of a pair of rabbit and cheetah kits playing on the floor together while their parents sat nearby, no trace of unease among them.

Then they stopped in surprise when a familiar bespectacled cougar hurried from one end of their car to the other, dressed in a conductor's uniform.

"Cam!" Judy blurted his name.

The cougar turned and blinked at the sound of his name. Then he waved at them with a broad smile. "Hey, guys! Sorry, can't stop to talk, but great to see you. You coming to the next PHA meeting?"

The fox and bunny exchanged raised eyebrows for a moment, then nodded at each other before looking back at Cam.

"We probably will," Nick answered.

"Awesome," Cam said as he continued hastening toward the other end of the train car. "See you guys then."

Then he disappeared behind the door.

"Hmm," Judy hummed as she and Nick exited the train paw-in-paw. "It's nice to see him doing okay after... you know... the library."

"True," Nick agreed as they emerged into the fresh air and sunlight, greeted by a sign reading in huge, cursive letters, " _WELCOME TO THE MEADOWLAND DISTRICT."_

Judy took a breath, hesitating for a moment. "What about Finnick?" she inquired in what she hoped was a casual tone. "Have you heard from him yet?"

The fox shook his head with a sigh, leading her toward the park he had shown her not long after her arrival in the city. "No, but there's also no word on his arrest, so I have to assume he's fine."

Glancing up at him, Judy's chest sunk to see the way he stared distantly ahead of them. The fate of many former members of the Den of Thieves was still unknown, but after Judy recovered from the effects of the Night Howler serum last week, they had at least found out that Duke was living freely again. Finnick seemed to have fallen off the edge of the world, for all the information they had about him. Anytime the topic came up, Nick went quiet for a while. She opened her mouth, paused—

"Judy!"

Blinking, Judy whirled to see a grinning bobcat jogging toward them. It took her a moment to realize why he looked familiar, but then she grinned and waved.

"Randol!" she exclaimed as he got near enough to exchange a short hug with her. "How are you doing? I haven't seen you in weeks!"

"Yeah, I..." Suddenly, Randol paused to clear his throat and glance down at his shoes. "I was, uh... in the hospital."

Judy hoped that the way she widened her eyes conveyed the surprise that she didn't feel. "Really? Why?"

The bobcat merely shook his head and shrugged. "Not important." He nodded amiably at Nick. "Hi, I'm Randol Whiskerton."

"Nick Wilde," replied Nick, holding out a paw, which Randol accepted with a single firm shake.

"So how have you been?" Randol asked Judy. "Still working at Basic Instinct?"

With a shrug, Judy shook her head. "I actually quit last week. It just wasn't really a good fit."

"Oh," Randol blinked. "Well, that's too bad. I heard they have an open cook position again, so I thought I'd see if they'd give me the job back. It will be weird without you there."

Judy smiled when she felt Nick's arm slide behind her back, his paw grasping her waist.

"Almost everyone else is still there, though," she said. "I'm sure they'll be happy to see you."

"And I'll be happy to see them," Randol replied, quizzically but silently eyeing Judy's closeness to Nick. "Honestly, I'm just looking forward to leading a normal life again, so it doesn't matter who's still there."

"Understandable," Judy agreed, then heaved a sigh and slipped her arm around Nick's waist. "Well, for now, we'd better get going, but I hope everything goes well with Basic Instinct. I'm sure we'll see you there later."

"Yeah, for sure," Randol nodded, tossing them a casual salute as he stepped away. "Have a good day, you two."

"You, too!" Judy sang jovially. Then she twirled around and intertwined her fingers with Nick's again, motioning toward the park, which was just entering their line of sight. "Shall we?"

As they neared the entrance to the park, Judy glanced at a newspaper stand—and gasped. Suddenly unable to control herself, she bounced, squealed, and pointed at the headline while Nick stared wide-eyed at her.

"Look, look, look, look, look!" Judy exclaimed, insistently tapping the glass to force his attention there.

Finally, Nick leaned forward and studied where she indicated. Judy couldn't help grinning as she watched a satisfied smirk light up his face.

"What do you know? The old lion kept his word," he said, peering closer to read the print. " _'As promised, newly reelected Mayor Leodore Lionheart's first act in office is to approve the Mammal Inclusion Initiative through executive order. Expected to take effect by the end of the year, the MII represents a step forward in guaranteeing equal opportunities for all mammals, regardless of size, species, or family. Lionheart credits the controversial figures known as Crossfire and the Hustler for convincing him that the act needed to be passed.'"_

Judy hadn't read that part. She'd only focused on the headline proclaiming, " _MAYOR LIONHEART PASSES MAMMAL INCLUSION INITIATIVE."_ Upon hearing Nick read more, she smiled wider, twirled in the air with her fists raised triumphantly, and then pounced on Nick, who laughed as they both tumbled to the ground.

Were other mammals staring? She didn't know. She didn't care. As she jubilantly nuzzled Nick's neck, her entire mind was enthralled with only one thought:

Everything that mattered to her was already in arm's reach.

* * *

 _Day 22: Friday, July 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:39 p.m._

* * *

With Judy's head on his chest, a blanket underneath them, a full stomach, the scent of fresh grass and flowers, and a clear sky above, Nick decided that if time were to freeze at this very moment, he would be absolutely fine with it.

Eventually, he and Judy had made it to the spot where they wanted to have their picnic in the park. After discussing their joy about recent political developments over a decadent meal of homemade sandwiches, chips, and fruit juice, they had settled into lying on the blanket and quietly cuddling. Idly, Nick scratched Judy's back, closing his eyes to better savor every sensation. When was the last time he had felt this peaceful?

"You know," Judy murmured into his shirt before rolling onto her back, "as much as I love this, we can only live on the remainder of that stolen money for so long."

Nick sighed. "I know."

Neither of them stated the obvious questions, but they let silence settle gently upon them, broken only by bird chirps and the occasional rustle of grass. There were no answers in the sky, but they stared at it anyway for what felt like hours.

"Um, actually..." Judy softly broke through the silence. She carefully rose to her knees and planted her palms on either side of his neck so that her face was inches from his. Normally, of course, he wouldn't mind, but her sly smirk had him a little on-edge. "There's an idea I wanted to run by you."

"Oh?" he inquired, pasting a hesitant smile on his face.

"Weeeeell," Judy sang. "Everybody thinks our secret identities are dead."

"Right."

"And our civilian identities have no criminal records."

"Yeah."

"And we make a great problem-solving team."

"Okay, sure."

"And Mayor Lionheart is going to pass the Mammal Inclusion Initiative."

Suddenly, Nick knew where she was going with this. He let out a groan and rubbed his forehead.

"Let's _both_ become police officers!" Judy finished proudly, sitting back to throw her arms in the air. "We can even be partners! You and me against the world, making it a better place!"

Sighing, Nick propped himself up on his elbows. He wanted to look at her incredulously, but he couldn't help answering her wide grin with a fond smirk. "Seriously? I know this has been your dream for a long time, but you want _me_ to do it, too?"

Judy nodded enthusiastically. "Don't you think it would be perfect for our interests and skill sets? And we could work _together!_ I can't think of anything more fitting for us! Can you?" She jumped forward to hug him, nearly knocking him onto his back again. "We would be _legal_ vigilantes!"

"By definition, that doesn't make any sense."

"Said the fox to his bunny girlfriend."

Nick chuckled and rested his head on top of Judy's, allowing himself a moment or two to think. She had a point. Something about the idea of becoming a police officer further rekindled part of himself that had been snuffed out at that scouts' meeting all those years ago—that part that Judy had helped him rediscover.

Yet he hesitated. When they'd first met, Nick had mocked Judy for this dream. Now he was considering sharing it with her, and all those old doubts nudged the edges of his consciousness. True, there seemed to be proof all around them that they were capable of making a difference. Riots and hate crimes related to genetic family and species had died out almost entirely over the past week. Prey and predators weren't suddenly best friends, but there was less tension. Take the rabbit and cheetah kits they had seen playing on the train a little while ago.

Still, could this really work?

His gaze locked with Judy's. In her warm violet eyes, Nick saw all the hope he would ever need.

"Sure, let's do it," he finally said as he planted a long kiss on her forehead. "Why not?"

THE END

* * *

 **A/N: That's it! This is it! It's done!**

 **...**

 **YOU GUYS! IT'S DONE!**

 **I HAVE FINISHED A NOVEL-LENGTH WORK OF FICTION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE! AND PEOPLE LIKED IT! FREAKIN' TAKE** _ **THAT**_ **, INNER DEMONS!**

 **I am so** _ **elated!**_ **Without going into my entire life story, I wouldn't be able to explain why this is such a huge accomplishment for me, but it is! It's been a while since I've felt this happy and peaceful toward myself. I can hardly contain my joy!**

 **SO! Now that it's finished, I plan on taking this story and adjusting some parts to create an original novel about a world with rival god families who inhabit the planet's two moons and their investigations into a mysterious disease that seems to be overtaking the mortals.** _ **The Tale of Crossfire and the Hustler**_ **will be the skeleton; I just want to change the meat and flesh.**

 **I know that this story isn't perfect, so let me know if there's anything in particular that you think I should improve for the original novel version. You can also tell me if there's anything I should keep the same or continuing doing. I have genuinely cherished every single bit of feedback I've received so far. I'm sorry that I haven't been great at keeping up with comments—truly, nearly every hour of my day has something scheduled for it, so it's hard for me to fit everything in—but your words have meant more to me than I, a writer, could ever verbally convey.**

 **Also, if you're interested, here's the "soundtrack" of every song that served as inspiration for** _ **The Tale of Crossfire and the Hustler:**_

\- " **From Heads Unworthy," by Rise Against (this was the most oft-quoted song in the story and the most prominent influence)**

\- " **Little Red Riding Hood," by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs**

\- " **Falling Slowly," by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová**

\- " **Strawberry Fields Forever," by the Beatles (though I admit to especially loving the cover by Jim Sturgess and Joe Anderson, as well as their other covers of Beatles songs)**

\- " **Count Me Out," by Pusherjones**

\- " **Live to Rise," by Soundgarden**

\- " **Piano Song," by Meiko**

\- " **A New Way to Bleed," by Evanescence**

\- " **Carry On, My Wayward Son," by Kansas**

\- " **Not Strong Enough," by Apocalyptica**

\- " **The World Spins Madly On," by The Weepies (again, though, be sure that you listen to the song while watching the music video called "Thought of You" by Ryan Woodward, because it is genius and incredibly moving)**

\- " **Speeding Cars," by Imogen Heap**

\- " **My Confession," by Josh Groban**

\- " **Some Nights," by Fun**

 **I will continue writing one-shots here and there, but if I write another multichapter story, it will be a while. Got to focus on my original novel and other projects for now. :)**

 **See you lovelies later!**


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